Author's Note: This story is the sequel to Vulnerability. It starts at the two-part series finale of Buffy the Vampire Slayer(2003) and contains major spoilers for the show. It also has a few minor spoilers and references to future events in Supernatural.

I also want to thank all of you who followed, faved, and reviewed Vulnerability. You guys are awesome, and I can't thank you enough for your support!

Chapter 1: Dean

Dean peeled the label off his empty beer bottle, wishing he could peel back time just as easily. Maybe he could have stopped the words from pouring out, could have stopped the argument that followed. Or maybe he would have just stopped himself from letting Cassie in. Stopped himself from falling for her.

He sucked in a breath, feeling the pain of her rejection, still so raw, a wrenching twist in his stomach. What did he expect, though? She was just a normal girl, a student reporter looking into the string of deaths on her college campus. And he'd been happy to let her do the research, watching her brow furrow as she tried to connect the pieces. She got the same look right before she—

Dean shook the thoughts from his head. It wouldn't do him any good remembering those moments. No, he should be thinking about the job. And the fact that he'd chosen to leave Ohio even before she'd broken up with him. So what if he had wanted to stay? Family and the job came first. And, yeah, he could have given her at least a dozen other reasons, something that would have sounded far more believable than the truth. But he hadn't. He'd taken a risk, believed that her journalist's instincts would help her see what really happened. And even if she didn't realize that the supernatural world existed, he believed that she'd trust him. Because he thought she felt something for him. The way he felt about her.

Instead, she'd called him a lunatic and shoved him out the door.

It's better this way, he told himself. Girls like her shouldn't be with guys like him. He didn't do domestic. He needed the open road and shotguns and greasy truck stop food and Zeppelin on the radio. And he really needed another beer.

As he signaled the bartender, a voice called from the door, "Make it two."

Dean watched his father cross the room and settle onto the stool next to him. There was a moment of anticipation before he realized that Sammy wasn't going to poke him in the side for sitting straighter and squaring his shoulders whenever their dad was around. In fact, his little brother hadn't done that in almost two years.

He grabbed one of the bottles in front of him and gulped down a mouthful of beer, feeling the cool liquid loosen some of the tightness in his throat. "How'd it go?"

"Not too bad," Dad said, laying a thick manila folder onto the bar and picking up the other bottle, taking a quick swig before continuing. "Had to pull out the old Vietnam card before he'd trust me. The guy was para—"

The insistent ring of a cell phone cut him off. Dad pulled out his phone, but shook his head as the ringing continued. Dean reached into his pocket, feeling a little confused. There weren't many people who had his number since Dad was usually the point-of-contact for other hunters or leads on a job. Dean couldn't help feeling a twinge of hope as he glanced down at the screen, though he wasn't sure who he wanted to be on the other end – Sam or Cassie. A smile tugging at his lips as he recognized the number. "Be right back, sir."

His father gave him a curt nod and turned back to his beer.

"Dawnie, how'd you know I needed a little Summers' lovin'?" He chuckled at the lame joke, knowing that she'd groan the way she always did whenever he used it. Sure, she wasn't Sam or Cassie, but she was like this annoying little sister who could magically cheer him up whenever she called.

"Dean." Not Dawn. That definitely wasn't Dawn's voice on the other end. But it couldn't be her. That was impossible. "It's Buffy."

The ground lurched beneath him, and he stumbled back, his hand reaching out to touch the wall, to hold onto something solid now that the world had turned upside down. "Buffy… how—"

"I don't really have a lot of time to explain everything," she said. "Look, I know this is a lot to ask, but I need a favor. You're the only one I can trust with this."

He cleared his throat, swallowing down the words threatening to break through, the questions he wanted to ask. "What's going on?"

"We're up against something big. Xander's been injured. And I… I can't concentrate on the fight until I know Dawn's safe."

Keep Dawn safe. Wasn't that how she'd died in the first place? Took a nose dive off a fifty foot platform to close a portal to hell and stop the Apocalypse – again.

"They need to hide, fly under the radar," she continued. "I need you to show them how. I need your help, Dean."

God, he'd missed her voice. Hearing her again was almost like the past four years had never happened, like he was still that twenty-year-old kid, letting her sneak French fries off his plate. Which was stupid because their relationship had lasted a grand total of one week. Not his briefest encounter, but certainly nothing for the record books. He hadn't really thought about her much since she'd… died.

"Dean?"

He shook his head, clearing away the shock of her existence. Her voice had a hoarse, throaty quality that, if he remembered right, usually happened after she'd been crying. He dragged his mind away from the past and focused on the present. She was in trouble and needed his help. And he was going to make damned sure that he would be there this time instead of working a job in Montana.

"I can be in Sunnydale by tomorrow night if I head out now," he said, estimating the distance to California from Nebraska.

"No, not here," she said. "It's too dangerous. They need to leave tonight."

"Okay." There was only one other person he could trust to watch Dawn until he got there. It just wasn't a call he had ever expected to make. "Head north towards Palo Alto."

"Sam," she breathed. "O God, I forgot about Sam. He and Willow talked a lot when he first got to Stanford, but then she and Tara… Things got a little crazy here."

"Wouldn't be Sunnydale if they didn't." He forced out a chuckle, feeling unnerved by her tone. Buffy had already faced a few apocalyptic events by the time he met her, battles she recounted with witty humor and more than a little pride. Things had changed since then. She'd changed.

"Xander can call you later to find out where to meet Sam."

"I can set it up right now, give you a call back in a couple minutes." The prospect of talking to her again was only marred by the fact that he'd have to stop talking to her first. And he didn't want this conversation to end.

"No, it's – it's safer if I don't know where they are."

"Buffy, you're scaring me." He'd learned from last time that it was better not to ask questions, especially if he couldn't live with the answers. But he couldn't hold back any longer. "What's going on? It must be bad if I need to hide your sister from you. Is it Glory? Is she back? I can help."

"No, it's not Glory," she said. "And you are helping. The best thing you can do is keep them safe. Maybe… maybe if everything works out, I'll find you again."

He heard the finality in her voice. She was saying goodbye. "Buffy, I never should have… I just wanted to say that I'm—"

"Andrew," she shrieked, "what did I tell you about knocking first?"

Dean felt his gut wrench. Of course she'd have someone in her life, someone to fight beside her. Someone who could make her life better, who didn't have all his hang-ups. Why would she wait around for a guy she hadn't talked to in almost four years?

"Tell Xander to call me when he gets on the road."

"I will. And, Dean," – he cursed the way his heart thumped when she said his name – "thank you."

Then she was gone, hanging up before he could respond.

He closed his eyes, waiting for the world to right itself. Deep breaths, in and out. It's not like he cared. Well, he cared, of course, but it was only because he felt guilty. She'd had to fight that hell-bitch Glory all by herself. And she hadn't necessarily been in the right frame of mind, losing her mom, trying to figure out how to take care of herself and protect her little sister. Not like him. He'd grown up taking care of Sammy. He knew how to deal. He could have helped.

If only he hadn't been so stubborn. If only he'd apologized sooner, then maybe he would have been with her, and she wouldn't have died, and he wouldn't be standing outside some shitty dive bar in The Middle of Nowhere, USA, assigned to babysit Dawn.

And if he drove straight through, only stopping to fill up on gas and snacks, he might even be in Sunnydale by tomorrow afternoon. He just had to figure out a way to convince Dad to let him take the Impala while avoiding any mention of Buffy.

It wasn't that his father disliked her. It was more that he despised the Watchers' Council, an organization of privileged, educated white British dudes who thought they were better than everyone else. Especially Hunters. And Slayers were an extension of the Council, a weapon, a disposable tool to do their bidding. At least that's what his father believed. But Buffy had cut ties with the Council before she even met the Winchesters. Not that it ever stopped her from being the hero or from saving the world. She just did it on her own terms. It was one of the things he loved about her.

"How's the Summers girl?"

Dean started, his eyes flying open. "Hey, Dad."

"Had to be Dawn, right?" said Dad. "Her, Bobby, and Sam are the only ones that know your number. And you haven't heard from Sammy in a while."

"Yeah, it was Dawn." Dean could see the disappointment in his father's eyes. It had been two years since Sam had walked away, two years without a word from him. "She's, um, doing the college tour thing and wanted to check out Stanford. Told her I'd get in touch with Sam and make sure he showed her a good time."

Dad nodded, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "But not too good, right?" He dug into his pocket and tossed his keys to Dean. "Gimme a lift to the motel before you leave."

"What about you?"

"Sioux Falls is only a few hours from here. Bobby can drive my truck down."

"What about the job?"

"It's nothing I can't handle," he said, climbing into the passenger seat. "Dean?"

"Yes, sir?"

"You let me know if he's doing okay. Let me know if he needs anything."

"I will, Dad."

"Good, son. Good." He turned away, staring out the window as they drove back to their room.

o)O(o

Dean checked his watch as he pulled up to the gas pump. Xander should have called by now. Not that he had anything to report. He'd left about a dozen messages on Sam's phone during the five hour drive to Denver and still hadn't heard anything back.

He had to make a decision now, though. The southern route through Vegas was the fastest way to Sunnydale. And that's where he really wanted to be. Buffy said she was up against something big this time, and she didn't sound very optimistic. So she was going to need all the help she could get. If he had to do it alongside this Andrew guy, he would. He would be there for her, as a fighter, or a friend, or whatever, because he wasn't going to let her die this time. Not if he could be there to save her.

Then again, she'd specifically asked him to keep her little sister safe. It showed how much she trusted him, despite the time and distance between them. He understood, maybe better than any of her friends, how important Dawn was to her, how serious this task was. Because Sammy was just as important to him, and he would do anything he could to keep his little brother safe. Even if it meant letting him go, letting him have that normal college life.

Dean topped off his tank, staring at the intersection in front of the station. If only there were some way that he could do both. If he could keep Dawn safe and fight beside Buffy. If he could see her again, hold her and know that she was real and alive in his arms again.

He didn't need a record book to tell him how he felt about Buffy. That one week with her had changed his life forever, in a way that no other woman could compare. Not even Cassie, the woman who he thought had broken his heart a few days ago. But it never occurred to him that he'd get a second chance with Buffy. He never thought he'd get the chance to tell her the words he'd said over her grave.

Dean knew what he had to do. When it came down to it, there really wasn't a choice. He got into the Impala and pulled onto the street. He drove through the intersection without hesitation, knowing that this road would take him exactly where he needed to be.

o)O(o

"Dean?"

Dean lifted his head and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Hey there, Sammy."

"What— How—" Sam's backpack landed with a thud. "What are you doing in my dorm room?"

"Not even a hello for your big brother?"

Sam smiled and strode across the room, pulling Dean into a fierce hug. Dean was surprised to see that his brother wasn't so little anymore. They'd been about the same height when Sam left, but he looked like he'd gained two inches since then.

"So, how are you?" asked Sam, pulling a chair over from the desk. "Is Dad with you?"

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. "Haven't you gotten any of my messages?"

"It's finals week. I turned off my phone so I wouldn't get distracted."

"Dammit, Sammy, what have I told you about that? Phone is always on, and you check your messages at least once a day."

"For what? For Dad to call and ask if I've passed all my classes this year? Or for you to find out how my last date went? All the people who've called me in the last two years know that I'm in the middle of finals and need to study."

"Phone works two ways, you know," Dean said, shaking his head. Sure, he could have called. But then he'd have to hear about Sam's new friends and new life and realize that his little brother was doing fine without him. "Look, I'm not here to argue. I'm here because I got a call from Buffy yesterday."

"Dean—"

"I know it's insane, but it's true." He could see the disbelief in Sam's eyes. "She asked me to watch out for Xander and Dawn, and I told them to come here first."

"Why here?"

"They needed a place to stay until I could come get them. You were the closest hunter I could trust."

"Dean, I'm not—"

"Just because you turned your back on the life doesn't mean you've forgotten how to be a hunter," he said, pulling out a small box from under Sam's bed. It held a silver knife and a few other objects that couldn't be hidden in plain sight, unlike the canister of salt and the decorative bottle that undoubtedly contained holy water. "Besides, Dawnie would love to spend some quality time with you."

"Don't remind me," said Sam, rolling his eyes. "So where are they?"

"Well, since I couldn't get a hold of you to find out where you live, I was going to do the whole 'first motel in the phonebook' thing. But Xander never checked in. I can't get in touch with either of them. I was hoping they called you directly."

"Hang on, I'll check right now." Sam opened his desk drawer and pulled out his phone, turning it back on. "God, how many messages did you leave me?"

Dean waited, drumming his fingers on his knee, as Sam held the phone to his ear, occasionally tapping the keys. Finally, he looked up and shook his head.

"Look, Dean, are you sure it was Buffy?"

"It's been a while, but I'm pretty sure I remember her voice."

"I know that she was important to you. But she's dead, Dean. There's no coming back from that. Not as a human, anyways." Sam looked at him, his eyes full of sympathy. "Besides, don't you think someone would have told us if she came back? I mean, I kinda lost touch with the Scoobies, but you still talk to Xander and Dawn, right?"

"Yeah. It's been a couple of months, though." Aside from Sam, Xander was the closest thing to a best friend that Dean had. But they were friends the way that guys are friends, calling each other to complain about work and women, occasionally mixing it up with a movie recommendation. And he was Buffy's friend first. "Maybe they had a good reason for keeping it secret."

"And maybe it wasn't Buffy. What if it was a creature trying to mess with your head? Like a siren or a – a crocatta?"

"That thing that eats people's souls?"

"It can mimic voices. It usually chooses the voice of someone you love." There was that tone again, full of sympathy and pity. Dean swore that if Sam started patting his arm, he was gonna break something. Possibly his brother's nose.

"Well, the voice brought me here. You gonna go all dementor on me?"

"No. But maybe it wanted to get you away from Dad."

"Stupid move. Dad's just as good a hunter by himself as he is with me. Besides, Bobby drove the truck down so I could take the Impala. I don't think there's a creature on Earth that could stand up against the two of them working together. Except maybe each other."

Sam chuckled, probably remembering the last time that Dad and Bobby had worked a case together. Not that they didn't get along. They were great friends until they started arguing about who was in charge.

"So what's your plan now?"

"Head down to Sunnydale." Dean chewed his bottom lip, debating with himself. "To be honest, I came here first because it's what she asked me to do. But I was gonna pawn off the babysitting duties onto you and go to Sunnydale anyways."

"You were going to leave me alone with Xander and Dawn? Don't get me wrong, I like Xander, but he's got the maturity of a thirteen-year-old. He's like the class clown version of you. And Dawn… dude, she's a kid with a crush! I don't want her mooning over me while I'm trying to study for finals."

"I even had this elaborate story to explain things to your roommate, but look at you. Got a room all to yourself," he said with a smirk. "Couldn't convince anyone to put up with your stinky feet and night terrors?"

"One of the perks of being a Resident Advisor is having your own room."

"Sounds like a sweet deal."

"It's something I've never had before," Sam said softly, looking down at the floor.

Dean looked around the room again, at the way Sam inhabited this space. There were posters on the walls and little knickknacks that would have taken up precious space in a duffle bag. He'd been right. His little brother was doing fine without him. "Come with me, Sam."

"To Sunnydale?"

"I could use your help."

"I've still got one final left!"

"Say it's a family emergency. They'd let you go for that, right?"

"This isn't high school, Dean," he said, pulling his face into a tight-lipped frown. "I have to file for an extension and talk to my professor. Plus, if I don't keep up my GPA, I'll lose my scholarship."

"They're your friends too, Sammy. At least, they were."

"That's not fair. I was the one still talking to Buffy when you wouldn't have anything to do with her."

"So come with me."

Sam groaned and rubbed his hand across his face. "What if we leave tomorrow afternoon? I'll be done with my final around two. We can leave right after."

"A lot can happen in twenty-four hours."

"Look, we don't even know if it really is Buffy."

Dean sighed. Despite his belief that he'd spoken to her yesterday, Sam brought up a valid argument. And he'd only slept a couple of hours in the last two days. He'd need to be in top condition if he was going to be of any use. "Okay. But I'm taking the bed. And your meal card."

"It's my room, Dean!" Sam shook his head as he pulled out his wallet. "Actually, this works out 'cause I've got a summer internship at a law firm down in L.A."

"A law firm, huh?"

"Don't start. It's a paid internship, and those are really hard to come by."

"Whatever, dude." Dean plucked the plastic card from his brother's hand. "I'm getting' me some pie."

o)O(o

It should have been an easy five-hour drive. They should have gotten there last night just in time for dinner or the first round of beating back the undead. Hell, they probably would have done both.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean leaned against his car, parked at the edge of a crater that used to be a town called Sunnydale. The setting sun bathed the rubble in a fiery orange light. "It's not your fault, Sammy."

"Maybe there wouldn't have been so much traffic if we left when you wanted to. Then the car wouldn't have overheated, and we would have been here instead of twiddling our thumbs off the 101."

"There's no way to tell if this happened today or three days ago." Dean took a few steps forward and peered down. It was at least a ten-foot drop to the ground below. "Maybe this is why they never called, or why I could never reach them."

"Do you think… what do you think happened?"

Dean's eyes followed the road, turned left at the light, and right onto Revello Drive. He remembered the moonlight streaming in through her bedroom window, the curve of her lips, the softness of her skin, the sunshine in her hair. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again. "Well, you're still here, and I'm still here, so I'm guessing it wasn't the end of the world. But it looks like it was pretty damn close."

"I'm really sorry, Dean."

"It wasn't your fault, Sammy." He walked back to the car and gave his brother's shoulder a squeeze. "Let's get you to L.A."

Up Next - Buffy: She hadn't just survived the battle, she'd changed the world. Now she just had to figure out how to live in it.