Fic: A Legacy of Memories (Buffy/Dean) PG-13

[blue_icy_rose]

Title: A Legacy of Memories
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Post-Chosen for Buffy. Season 1 or early season 2 for SPN. And I've taken one big element from Eternal Sunshine.
Summary: Sometimes, the one thing you need most is the one thing you can't remember.
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural, or Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. They belong to Joss Whedon, Eric Kripke, and Charlie Kaufman. And the awesome banner was made by the equally awesome Mel (dhfreak).
Notes: This was written for Krystal for her birthda and, hopefully, I'll be getting the next chapter out soon. Enjoy and feedback's always welcome!


Dean Winchester was not having a good day. There was God knows what caked on his leather jacket as a result of this latest hunt, he was pretty sure he’d twisted his ankle and he’d gotten thrown into another wall. His only consolation was that Sam looked about as good as he did, staring down at his hoodie and shaking his head at the loss.

“I liked this,” he muttered.

“Dude, you like all of them. That’s why you have a million and four.”

Sam frowned at him. “Well, I liked this one more.”

Dean snorted. “Shut up and get in the car. I want to take a shower.”

“Your jacket’s ruined too, you know,” Sam pointed out, shrugging at him when Dean shot him a glare.

“My jacket is not ruined. It’ll be fine.” He slammed his door and started the engine, inching the car forward and grinning when Sam swore and scrambled inside.

“You are such a jerk.”

Dean continued to grin, mood already lighter.

~*~*~

A few hours later and Dean was grinning smugly at Sam as they walked (or in Dean’s case, limped) into one of the local bars, his jacket gleaming as if nothing had happened to it.

“You see, Sam, this is why I told you to start wearing leather jackets.”

Sam glanced over at the jacket and frowned. “Oh, shut up.”

“Very good comeback.”

Before his brother could say anything, he was interrupted by a young woman’s voice.

“Dean? Dean Winchester?”

They both turned and saw a young woman who looked to be around Sam’s age, maybe a couple years younger, studying them with bright blue eyes. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Do I know you?” he asked, cursing himself for only bringing in a dagger. She smiled.

“You wouldn’t remember me,” she told him firmly.

“Who are you?” Sam interrupted. She glanced over at him and Sam got the distinct feeling that even though they’d never met, she still knew who he was.

“Dawn. My name’s Dawn Summers.” She turned back to Dean. “And frankly, I’ve been looking for you for months. You’re a pain in the ass to track down, you know that?”

Dean eyed the girl, searching his memory for any hint that he might know her. “And why would you be looking for me?”

“For my sister, Buffy.” Dawn paused and bit her lip. “Except Buffy doesn’t know I’ve been looking for you. She said that we should just let you live your life and move on, which I think is a load of crap, since you don’t even know you’re moving on…” She trailed off as if realizing what she had said and glanced away.

Sam turned towards Dean. “Dude, did you get some girl pregnant?”

“No,” was Dean’s immediate response. He frowned and looked at Dawn. “I didn’t, did I?”

She snorted. “No.”

There was silence as they stared at each other and then Dean asked, “How did you end up finding me?”

“Location spell,” she said, voice as casual as if she’d said her boots were black. “That’s how I’ve found you every single time but you always manage to leave town before I get there and then I have to try every few days because you’re always on the road. I just lucked out this time, I guess. And I remembered you saying something about usually needing a drink after a hunt so I figured I’d go bar hopping. And hey, here you are.”

Dean shook his head. For a girl he couldn’t remember, she knew a hell of a lot about him and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“How long have you been looking for me?” He watched to see what her reaction would be to so many questions but it looked as if she’d been expecting this kind of reception because she barely blinked.

“A few months. Frankly, I wanted to start looking for you over a year ago but Buffy needed me and I wasn’t about to just ditch my sister so I could look for you.”

Her tone combined with what she said earned her a few points in Dean’s book but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still suspicious of her. Finally, he asked the question that had been bugging him since she’d mentioned her sister.

“What does your sister have to do with me?”

Dawn bit her lip in what he was beginning to recognize as a nervous habit. “This really isn’t the place to talk about it. Can we go somewhere else?” She held up her hands when both their expressions hardened just a bit, eyes narrowing. “You can pick where and you can bring whatever weapons you think will be necessary though you’re really not going to need them. But a bar really isn’t the place to have this conversation.”

He thought about this, glancing over at Sam. They both recognized the suggestion for what it was—a way to prove that she meant no harm and though neither one said a word or changed expression, Sam nodded in agreement to Dean’s silent suggestion.

“Okay,” he said, turning to find her watching them with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “Our hotel. You can follow us.”

She nodded. “Sure.” She turned and began to lead the way to the door, pausing to glance over her shoulder. “By the way, that silent conversation thing? Kind of nifty.” With a bright smile, she headed outside, leaving them blinking and wondering just who the hell she was.

~*~*~

“You ever wonder who decorates these places?” Dawn asked, glancing around their room. She wrinkled her nose. “Because yuck. What color is that supposed to be?” She gestured towards the carpet.

“Blue-green probably,” Sam said, flushing when Dean smirked and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well they failed then. It looks more like Stitch threw up or something.”

Sam made a face. “Gross,” he muttered.

“I know, right?”

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes a bit. “Fascinating as I’m sure the color of the carpet is, can we get back on topic?” Sam frowned at him, looking like he wanted to say something about being rude, but Dawn just grinned as if she were used to Dean’s special brand of bluntness. She tilted her head towards one of the beds.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Feel free.”

“Thanks.” She dropped down, bouncing a bit when she did and set her purse next to her. “So I guess this is the part where I make with the explainy.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” Dean said, leaning against the table where Sam had set the laptop earlier that day.

“You and Buffy dated a couple years ago.” Dawn smiled. “You were one of the happiest couples I ever knew,” she said, stopping when Dean held up a hand.

“Hold it right there, sweetheart. I think I’d remember a girl that I dated.”

Dawn’s smile dimmed, a sadness that hadn’t been there earlier creeping over her face as she shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t. Not this time.”

He snorted, registering the way Sam had shifted his stance so that he could easily grab the gun hidden in the drawer next to him if need be. “Right. And why’s that?”

“Because…” She paused and let out a breath. “Because you had all memories of her erased. There’s a doctor who does it, erases a person from another person’s mind so that it’s like they never met them.” She reached into her purse, ignoring the way they both tensed, and pulled out her wallet. She dug around for a few minutes and then produced a business card, holding it out to Dean who took it slowly.

He stared down at it, turning it over and searching for some sign that it wasn’t real. There was nothing and he glanced up at Sam, shaking his head to let him know it looked authentic. Sam frowned.

“But that’s impossible. You can’t just erase someone from your mind as if they were never there.”

Dawn shook her head. “Oh believe me, you can.” She looked down at her wallet, studying a picture she had displayed in one of the pockets. “At first, only one doctor was able to do it but since you can’t exactly tell a regular doctor about spirits and demons and magic, another doctor, one who knew all about that sort of thing, learned how to do it. He wanted to offer the same opportunity to everyone, I guess.”

“Okay, let’s say I buy this. Let’s say this is real and you can use science to erase someone.” He shuddered at the thought of letting someone into his mind like that. “If your sister and I were so damn happy, why would I have her erased?”

Dawn looked up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Because she asked you to.”