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This was the fifth time this week you had this dream, four people with bizarre black eyes, fighting against you and two other guys. You were proud of your skills; you were punching, kicking and blocking attacks like Buffy, which coincidentally, you were obsessed with the show at the moment. You loved this part of the dream, not only you were an awesome warrior, but the two men by your side were extremely handsome, especially the shorter man with the incredible green eyes. You focused on him, his fighting skills were spectacular, much better than yours.
Your attackers apparently were aware of his abilities because two of them attacked him at the same time.
“Dean!” You yelled when he was tossed to a wall. You stabbed your opponent with a silver blade and rushed to check on Dean. Your other teammate took care of the remaining enemies while you examined the wounded man.
You examined him for injuries. Yet he didn't seem to have any. He better wake up! He had promised you to take you on a date after this fight. You hoped that this time you actually made it to the date. You wished for this to be the night were the end of the dream would be different. You even contemplated looking for a guide to control your dreams.
He woke up and smiled, you immediately offered your hand to help him get off the floor. You held his hand as the two of you started walking to the door.
You noticed another one of the monsters running towards Dean. You pushed him out of the way receiving the attack. The pain from the knife didn't register until you noticed the blood. You fell on your knees. Dean held you as he screamed for Sam, but you knew you weren't going to make it. Your eyes closed. The last thing you saw was Dean crying.
The scenery changed. You were aware of the fact that this place was hell. Literally, you were in hell. You hated this part of the dream, so now you were trying desperately to wake up from it. You wanted the conclusion to change for you going on that date with Dean; so never stopped the dream sooner. You screamed in pain, the laughter of your torturer made you feel worse, but you waited for the help that arrived before the torture got more intense. There was always a hand grabbing you and pulling you out. You jumped up as soon as you felt the familiar hand on your shoulder. You were finally awake. Your fingers traced the scar shaped like a handprint. It wasn't a birthmark, you had asked your mother and she had no idea where you got that scar. You didn't remember either. It just appeared in your body. There was no point going back to sleep, might as well get out of bed and start your mundane routine.
You dragged your feet to your bathroom, turned on your iPod to the same playlist and listened to the same songs as you took a shower, brushed your teeth and put on the same jeans and sweatshirt combo you always wore. Maybe one day you could change it up and wear a dress or a skirt, however, even if you went out of the way and bought the items, you knew for a fact that you would never wear them. Yes, you were tired of doing the same every day. Still, you felt that it this wasn't really your life, so taking the step to change something would be a complete waste of time, the daily routine would still feel somewhat unfamiliar. You thought about your dream. The fighting girl didn't feel like a weird thing. Maybe she was you in a past life; probably she was who you were supposed to be. You shook your head. Maybe you were watching too much Buffy.
After a dull lecture, one you spent doodling in your notebook, you sat in the library, book open but not focusing on your assigned reading. You took the newspaper someone had left on the spot next to you. The article was about the fourth missing student; you were aware of the disappearance of the students, in fact, the first disappearance coincides with the first time you had the Sam and Dean dream.
Everyone was talking about the missing students, but no one had any concrete details. This bothered you for some reason. As you read the article, paying close attention to the words, you thought about investigating the case, something inside you urged you to help those people. It took you a moment to realize how silly that sounded. Who were you trying to be? Sherlock? Yeah, you were extremely bored, but that wasn't a reason to search for trouble.
You put the newspaper back where you found it, knowing that if you kept it, you would obsess over the article. It was better to go home and watch some television. You closed the book and got up to put the it on a book cart. As you walked looking for a place to leave the book, you noticed him: short blonde hair, leather jacket and a wicked grin, flirting with the young librarian. You had to stop yourself from walking towards him. What were you going to tell him? That you dreamt about him and some other guy? Not a good idea ! Yeah, he was extremely cute, but that would be the worst introduction. He would probably think you were some sort of lunatic. So you made the decision to back away and forget the dream guy you were kind of crushing on actually existed. Maybe you just saw him one day at random and your mind was so impressed with his cuteness that it kept his image to use in cool dreams. That seemed like a good explanation. Yeah, y ou could convince yourself of that . You got stuck in your thoughts that you didn't notice the tall guy behind you until you crashed into him. You were on the verge of apologizing when he grabbed your wrist. He was staring at you with such hatred that it terrified you.
"Who are you?" He demanded.
He could be the one responsible for the missing students, if he was, then he picked the wrong victim! You kicked in the knee and he let you go. The guy that looked like Dean in your dreams glanced your way. He looked at you with narrowed eyes. They clearly had something against you.
You bolted out of the library. The shorter guy chased after you. You lost him at the entrance. The multitude of people helped you get away. The safest thing to do would be to go home and alert the authorities, you decided against it. Your curiosity winning that battle, you started dreaming about these two the same day people went missing, and now they were here. It was too much of a coincidence.
You walked into a restaurant close by, sat at a booth and ordered a slice of a pie. You took your Philosophy of Religion textbook and decided to read your assignment, you liked the subject enough for it to provide a good distraction.
Moments later you were completely engrossed by your book, the earlier events forgotten. You didn't notice the two men entering the restaurant until they sat on your table. The blonde guy sat in front of you and the other one next to you, trapping you. The guy next to you got out a silver knife, grabbed your arm and made a small cut.
"Hey!" You protested. "Why did you do that?"
The guy in front of you took out a flask and offered to you. "Drink this." He ordered.
You refused. "I'm not going to accept a drink from a stranger."
"Stranger? You have no idea of who we are?" The blonde guy asked.
You were not going to mention the dream, at least not yet. "No idea."
"You are lying. We are the freaking Winchesters. Every monster has heard of us." The shaggy brunette said. "Now, drink!"
You were confused. Monster? What the fuck? But you hadn't thought about an exit strategy so might as well play along until you can escape. Damn your stupid curiosity! You were supposed to be screaming for help or something like that.
"Are we supposed to know each other?" You asked calmly. Weren't you supposed to be scared? As much as you wished you could be the girl in the dream and hang out with them, in reality, you didn't know who they were.
"First, drink this." Dean answered.
"Is it going to kill me or drug me?" That was a stupid question. What kind of psycho would say yes if it were true? You took the flask and smelled it first. You didn't find any weird odor, so you took a tiny sip.
"It's holy water." the guy next to you said.
You immediately spat out, disgusted. "Holy water? Are you two crazy?! Why would you make me drink holy water? Ew ! You know how many germs and bacteria are found in it? It was on the news!"
They relaxed a bit and found your reaction amusing. Dean set the flask away. "I'm not convinced it is you. It can't be. Who are you?"
You moved closer to him, looked him in the eye and quoted Doctor Who. "I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborous. I'm 903 years old and I'm the man who is gonna save your lives and all the 6 billion people on the planet below. You got a problem with that?"
You heard the guy next to you chuckle, so he clearly understood the reference. You smiled at him. He couldn't be a bad person if he watched Doctor Who, right?
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Your gorgeous face doesn't make any sense." You said without thinking. "You don't watch Doctor Who?" You turned to the guy next to you. "He doesn't watch Doctor Who? Oh. Then, I guess you are just the guy in my dreams not of my dreams."
"What?" They both asked.
You and your big mouth! Oh well, now it was a good time to mention the dream. "You guys read the newspaper?" They nodded. "Well, the day the disappearances began, I started dreaming about you two. We were fighting some people with black eyes and one of them killed me." you shrugged. "And then I went to hell."
They looked straight at each other. You stared at them, but don't question the weird look. "So who are you?" You finally ask.
"We are Sam and Dean."
"Are you kidding me? Like my dream? Am psychic? Because then I would like to dream the lottery numbers instead of my death."
"That's not how you are going to die. That's how you died." Sam said.
"What? I'm not dead, obviously. Fuck! Am I a ghost? Double fuck! Is this like the Sixth Sense? Can you see dead people? Is my life a fucking Bruce Willis movie?! Ugh! Why does it have to be the Sixth Sense? Why not Red or The Fifth Element? Why the one with the kid who can see dead people?!" you whined.
"I didn't follow any of that," Dean said, reaching for your slice of pie.
You stopped him. "If I'm dead then, I need this more than you."
"If you are dead, then you don't need this at all."
"I'm not dead so mine." The slice of pie flew to your sweatshirt. "Damn. I guess that's what I get for not learning how to share."
"You never do," Sam said, laughing.
"You are talking as if you know me." You smiled. For some reason, it didn't bother you that he was laughing at your pie-stained sweatshirt.
"We do know you. We hunt together." Sam replied.
Hunt? You didn't hunt. Bambi had traumatized you against it. "Ok. Who are you? Are you friends of my parents? That would help explain why I don't remember you. I have a tendency to forget the people they introduce me to. Nothing I against you guys, it's just that my mom is obsessed with me finding someone she introduces me to a lot of people."
"We don't know your parents. We never had the chance." Dean said.
Then how did they know you? If you weren't psychic, then how could the dream be true? This was far too odd . You didn't know what was more upsetting. That your dream was about your apparent death or that somehow you lived another exciting life and now you were stuck in a boring one. "If you excuse me. I don't feel that great." This wasn't fun anymore. Why couldn't you remember them?
You packed your book, paid for your food and jumped over Sam. "Anyway, I can contact you after I wrap my head around this new information?"
Sam nodded and handed you a card. "This is my phone and where we are staying. We could give you a ride home."
"My place is not that far from here," you waved them goodbye. "Don't worry about me."
You walked home. You dropped your keys in the bowl, your bag on the floor and you fell on your couch. You sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to remember anything else, but only the dream appeared in your thoughts. It was like the rest of the memories were locked away and you didn't have the key. You shrugged and turned on the television. A Buffy marathon sounded wonderful at the moment. If anything could make you better after a bad day was Buffy. You sighed, if you could talk to Buffy she could probably offered some advice, of course she would know what to do in your situation. You turned on the television and looked through your list on Netflix until you found t he show. Just like any other problem, could probably find some advice in one of the episodes. By the third episode y ou were comfortable, to the point of falling asleep when a scream disturbed you. You looked out of the window looking at the alley and noticed a man attacking a young girl. You didn't think about it, you used the fire escape stairs to run to her aid. You jumped on top of him, surprising him. You yelled at the girl to run, hoping that she would call the police since you didn't and now totally regret it. That was the logical and safe choice, not jumping on top of an assailant as if you were Buffy! You were so full of stupid decisions today.
You watched her run away and the assailant took the opportunity to push you off him. You quickly got off the floor. He leaped up to attack you, but you kicked him, keeping him away from you. He charged again and you punched him. Every time he tried to attack you, you were quick to defend yourself. He was getting angrier, he growled and you saw the pointy teeth.
Fangs? Was this dude part shark? The word vampire came across your mind, but that couldn't be. Vampires had two fangs. This guy's mouth was full of them! You were almost out of breath, not being accustomed to this much physical activity. You grabbed the broom that someone had thrown out, broke the handle and impaled the short edge into his chest. It was obviously the wrong way to kill the guy since he just took the stick out and threw you against the wall. He had you now. You were too tired and hurt to fight back. Why didn't you run off like the other girl? You were not Buffy nor Sherlock nor the Doctor or another awesome fictional character who got into trouble and was capable to get out said trouble. You were an ordinary person who had rent to pay and homework to do and books to read. NO! Fuck that! You were not ordinary! There were two guys out there who swore you were the badass chick from your dream. This weird shark teeth dude was not going to kill you.
You used the wall behind you to get up. It took great effort, yet you managed to stand up. "I'm not going to make it easy for you!" you shouted, more for you than him.
He laughed and charged at you. You ended up on the floor with him on top of you. You used your arms to block him from biting your neck. Even if your mind said he was a vampire, you weren't really sure. You had seen enough zombie movies to know not to let the creepy creature bite you.
In an instant his head falls to the floor, his blood pours into your already dirty sweatshirt. You tossed the body away and see Dean holding a bloody machete and Sam standing next to him.
Sam noticed the bloodstained piece of wood on the floor. "Did you stake him?"
"Yes. It works for Buffy! That's how she kills vampires." Dean helps you off the floor.
"That's fiction." Sam continues.
"So? We all know all the answers can be found on television." You defended.
"That's not true."
"Bite your tongue! "
Dean sighed. "Are you hurt?"
"Well, this one," You said, pointing to Sam, "hurt my feelings by insulting my personal philosophy."
"You got that from Homer Simpson!"Sam said.
"Doesn’t mean I can't adopt it as my personal philosophy."
"Apart from the feelings, any other injuries?" Dean asked.
"Nothing that requires a drive to the hospital if that's what you mean. I should have some pain killers upstairs." You lowered the stairs to return to your apartment. "So, I've been wanting to ask you are clearly Buffy," you said to Dean. "Is he your Willow? Dawn? Or Angel?"
"You watch too much television." Dean answered.
"Hmmm weird that nobody has told me that before." You joked. "Answer the question, please."
Dean stayed quiet. "Dawn. You used to say I was Dawn and that you were Spike." Sam responded for his brother.
You blushed. "But I love Buffy and Spike together!"
"That's why you said you were Spike." Sam acknowledged.
You looked at Dean, but he was avoiding your gaze. "This is just too weird. Why can't I remember you?"
"We should get rid of the body." Dean mumbled.
"I'll do that. You go upstairs with her." Sam said.
"Fourth floor. Apartment 407 when you are done." You said to Sam.
Dean climbed after you. You turned off the television and invited him to sit on the couch. He kept looking around the apartment. You didn't have lots of pictures, but your walls were covered with posters of movies and TV shows, you also had books on the floor because you couldn't fit them on your bookshelf.
"Beer?" He nodded, following you to the kitchen.
You took off your ruined sweatshirt, leaving you in a white tank top. His eyes flew to the owl tattoo on your chest, above your heart.
"Harry Potter tattoo." You explained. That's what you said to the few people that had the chance to see the tattoo. You had gotten it for you, so you kept it covered with your clothes. It was rare that you showed the owl to people.
"That's not true." He said, h is eyes on the beer.
"Excuse me?"
"Her name is Minerva and you got it to remember to always let knowledge and wisdom rule over your heart."
You didn't know how to answer. He was right, completely right. How did he know? You didn't share that piece of information with just anybody. No wonder you didn't hesitate to die for him. Were you guys that close? Why couldn't you fucking remember him?! And it was clear to you that it hurt him too that you couldn't. "We must be pretty close for you to know that. My mother doesn't even know the real meaning of the tattoo."
Dean walked towards you and hugged you. "I want to believe so much that it is really you." He whispered .
You wanted to assure him that it was you. You were that girl who fought alongside him and that had feelings for him. You had to find a way to get your stupid memories back.
A knock at the door interrupts the moment. You opened the door and Sam walks in. "Your brother has convinced me that in fact we are familiar with each other. So I guess we should find out why I can't remember my past life."
"I think we should call Cas ." Sam said. "Look at her shoulder, Dean."
"You mean the scar? I have not idea of how I got it. It just sort of appeared one day. Do you need the phone?"
"Ahh no. Cas! Cas! We could use your help with something." Dean said to the air.
"What are you doing? Who is Cas?" Your questions are interrupted by your professor appearing in your living room.
Your Philosophy of Religion professor appeared in your living room. "No need to call my brother, boys. I can help solving this puzzle." He said.
"Professor? What are you doing here?" You couldn't believe that day you were having. Just this morning you were complaining about the lack of excitement .
"Gabriel?" Sam and Dean asked at the same time.
"We thought you were dead." Sam continued.
"That was the idea. But let's sav e that convers ation for never. I'm not here for you guys." He turned to you. "I can explain the lack of memories. The last time we saw each other, you expressed how you wished you had a normal life. You were tired of the responsibility and lying to your parents."
"And why does she called you professor?" Dean asked.
"I needed to keep an eye on her, of course. Haven't you heard? There are monsters running amok." Gabriel answered.
"I need to sit down." You said. You started to remember that last meeting with Gabriel. You cried to Gabriel. You were miserable for not being able to save two little girls from a shtriga and while you were grieving your parents called you and you had to pretend to be excited about traveling through Europe. At the end of the call, you felt worse and you were ready to drink yourself to sleep when Gabriel showed up. You talked to him because you didn't want to bother Sam and Dean with your failures. You would have ever suspected that Gabriel would actually care.
"I want them back." You suddenly said. "I was wrong. I can't live like this! Every day the same thing. This routine is killing me! I want my memories back."
"Are you sure? You could have a normal life." Sam said.
You looked at Dean. "I want to be the Spike to your Buffy."
"That sounds dirty. What's that?" Gabriel inquired .
Dean ignored him. "We can still be together while you stay here."
You shook your head. "No. That won't work at all. Spike is there when Buffy needs him. He fights too."
"You died because of me!"
"NO! I died because I was stupid and I miscounted. Live and learn, well, die and learn, but lesson learned!"
"Are you sure you want your old life back?" Gabriel said.
"Yes! Now please give me back my memories." Gabriel touched your forehead. Everything came rushing back, all the hunts, the victories, the failures, the people you saved and the ones you couldn't. But you were most happy to remember all the moments with Sam and Dean, helping them on a hunt, pranking them, drinking with them at a bar, and you remember kissing Dean.
You rushed to hug Sam. "Did I really try to kill a vampire by staking him?"
"Yeah." He laughed.
"You are not going to use that against me, right?"
"We'll see."
You hugged Gabriel. "Thank you for bringing me back."
There was a reason why you left Dean for last. You approached him, he expected a hug, but you surprised him by kissing him. He kissed you back. "I've been dreaming of doing that ."
"I've missed you."
"I love you." You responded.
He kissed you again. "Pack a bag. Let's hit the road."
"Can we? Are you done with the case here?"
"All the vampires are dead."
Gabriel disappeared while you pack some clothes. Your mind started to list all the things you needed to do now that you were back hunting like withdrawing from the university and you probably couldn't keep the apartment, but you were ecstatic to be back hunting with the brothers .
You locked the apartment and decided to leave all those details for later. Dean and Sam were waiting by the car. "Hey baby! Did you miss me?" You said to the impala. Dean laughed as he took your bag.
You waved goodbye to your apartment and your dull life. You were ready for some exciting adventure.