Rating: M
A/N: Yeah, I know I said I wasn't going to update for a couple of days, but I couldn't help myself. After watching the new season 5 episode I just HAD to post. Anyway, I hope you guys like it (am very nervous about this chapter). Thank you to everyone for their reviews, encouragement and well wishes.
'Turn off the Light'
"This is ridiculous!" Sam hissed to himself, while pacing back and forth in front of Bobby's desk. The older hunter had retired to bed hours ago, but Sam was far from being relaxed enough to sleep. Dean hadn't answering his phone in two days, and Sam was fast out of patience. Ruby had kept her word and faded into the background, which left Bobby to drive him nuts trying to keep him busy with research.
Sam couldn't take another day of sitting around. He glanced at the back door, and considered his options. He could sneak out and find Dean, or he could sit around, for God only knew how long, twiddling his thumbs. He hadn't felt so bored since he was a kid.
Sam was hungry for action.
Decision made, Sam slipped upstairs, and began shoving as many clothes as he could fit into his bag. He added a few odd weapons, including Ruby's demon killing knife, and headed downstairs. He found Bobby's hidden stash of car keys (in the ice tray in the back of the freezer), and slipped out into the cool night. Sam felt guilty for not leaving Bobby a note, but knew the man would understand why he had to leave.
He reached Bobby's rusting Chevy, and put the car into neutral. Carefully, Sam threw his weight against the car, and started steering it down the driveway. Halfway down the hill, Sam jumped into the car, and tried starting the engine.
Nothing happened.
Pumping the accelerator to add more gas, he tried again - but the car refused to start. Sam threw the brakes on, and wrenched the handbrake up in disgust. Sam punched the steering wheel furious; Bobby had disabled the car.
"Problems?" Sam turned his head to see Ruby leaning through the passenger window. "Does Cinderella need help jump starting the pumpkin?"
"Can you fix it?" he inquired hopefully.
"Nope." Ruby stood up, and cocked her head to the right. "But who needs a pumpkin when your fairy godmother can produce a SUV?"
Sam quickly exited Bobby's car. Leaving the keys in the ignition, he grabbed his bag, and climbed into the black SUV. Ruby handed him the keys. "Your timing is brilliant," he acknowledged, as they quickly sped away from Bobby's house.
"I know," Ruby gloated. "I'm awesome."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you're so modest."
"Hey," Ruby protested with a pout. "I've earned my high five. I got you a car, dinner…" She held up a silver flask and sloshed the contents around. "And I brought you some information."
"You know where Dean is?" Sam exclaimed excited.
"No," Ruby confessed, but her smile grew wider. "But I know where he's gonna be." Sam glanced at her intrigued and she waggled her eyebrows. "And I know who he's going to be with."
"Castiel?"
"Guess again, Sherlock," Ruby teased. "Try a woman by the name of Angela Hatcher."
***
"Thank God it's Friday!" Jo looked up from her paperwork, and smiled politely at her boss. "You got any plans this weekend?"
Jo shrugged, punching in a serial number in her computer. She highlighted the receipt number, and attached the receipt to the monthly account form. "Not really, Harry. Just thought I'd catch up on some reading," she answered distracted.
"But you're so young!" he exclaimed, pulling a wad of receipts, and invoices out of his jeans pocket, and dumping them in her in tray. Jo smiled, and shook her head before sorting through the new receipts. "You should be going out on hot dates, and having fun with your friends."
"And you might need a little less fun in your life, or your wife is going to make you sleep on the couch permanently," she teased.
He chuckled and sat down at his desk. The phone rang, and he leant over to answer it, "Harry's Plumbing Service… oh hey Jim! Yup… hang on… let me grab the appointment book."
Jo went back to trying to sort out Harry's accounts. After finally arriving in Arizona, Jo was fast out of money, and running out of options. She quickly searched for a job that would require little access to the public, for fear that someone would recognise her, and word would get back to her mother. Jo had suspected some divine intervention, when she had overheard Harry talking to the motel owner about how he needed someone to do his accounts. The job description sounded perfect, and she had quickly offered him her services. A week later, Jo had secured herself a small house to rent, and had settled in to her new life.
It had been hard. So many lonely nights she had lay awake thinking of her mom and Bobby, and wondering if they were safe and coping. She knew what her death must be doing to her mom, and was only comforted by the thought that, due to the change in relationship, Bobby would be there for her mom.
"Earth to Angela?" Jo looked up embarrassed. Despite living with her new identity for 2 months, she still had trouble remembering her new name. Harry grinned back at her. "I was calling your name for a good five minutes Ang, that must have been some good daydream?"
"I'm really sorry, Harry. What were you saying?"
"That it's time to go home." He pointed to the clock above her head, and Jo realised it was twenty minutes passed six.
"Oh," she breathed, and reluctantly started to pack up her desk.
"You sure you don't want to come out with me and the boys tonight?" he offered kindly. The 'boys' he was referring to were his two best friends from his bowling club. She had met them a couple of times when they dropped by the office, and had teased her playfully for throwing her life away working for Harry.
"Thanks, but a bowl of ice cream and some good book is calling my name," she lied, and was relieved when he didn't press her further.
"Alright then, see you Monday!" Harry left, whistling to himself happily. Jo went around the office shutting down the air conditioning and computers. By the time she had locked the small office, it was six thirty, and she had started to feel hungry.
Her single bedroom house was only a couple of blocks away from the small rundown office, and she was grateful. A full moon shone down above her head, and she made sure her knife was tucked securely in the waistband of her pants, before she set off down the dark streets. Head lowered and her eyes scanning her surroundings at all times, she walked home swiftly.
Reaching her house, Jo glanced around the quiet street cautiously, before pulling her keys out. She noted that the demon wards, and charms were still in place as she unlocked her door. With a final glance at the deserted street, she slipped inside.
As was routine, she checked all the salt lines in her house, and made sure all the charms hadn't been disturbed. Everything was as it should be. Jo kicked off her shoes, and made her way to the kitchen. Her fridge offered little in the way of a meal, and whilst pulling out a carton of milk; she heard a distinctive car engine grumble outside.
The car stopped, and the owner killed the engine. Jo grabbed her shotgun from the space between the fridge, and the wall. She hurried to the front window. A glossy, black 67 Impala sat in front of her house unoccupied.
"Sam," she gasped.
Dropping the blind, she backed away quietly. There was no time to flee the house without being detected. She listened to him striding up her walkway quickly, footsteps pausing at the front door. Jo bit her lip. Deciding she was better off hiding, a small part of her prayed Sam would go away if he suspected she wasn't home.
A light knock on the door echoed through the small house.
'How did he find me? I was so careful!' Jo went to great lengths to make sure she couldn't be followed by zig-zagging all over the country before resting in Arizona. Three fake identities later, she settled on Angela Hatcher. Even her position at Harry's was untraceable. She showed up a couple of hours a week and he paid her cash in hand.
The knocking repeated, this time with increased force. She glanced at the backdoor, hoping Sam hadn't brought Ruby with him. Even if he had - there was no way Ruby was getting into the house through the back door. Jo was positive that her house was demon proof.
The doorknob rattled, and she heard metal scraping against metal. Annoyed that Sam had the nerve to pick her lock, she slipped behind a wall, and waited for him to enter her house. The door swung open, and Jo waited.
"Hello? Angela?"
It wasn't Sam.
Blind panic flooded Jo's body. She recognised the voice at the door. Her eyes narrowed, heart beating brutally against her ribs. Somebody… something was impersonating Dean Winchester's voice.
Jo listened intently for the smallest of creaks while he entered the house. Her grip tightened around her shotgun. He paused, inches from her, sensing that he wasn't alone. Jo held her breath. He resumed walking cautiously. The second his shadow slid passed her, she charged. Her firm fist connected sharply with his face, and he cried out in surprise.
"What the hell?" he moaned, hands cupping his nose. It was bleeding. Jo raised her shotgun, preparing to fire. Removing the safety lock, she opened fire, when he suddenly barrelled towards her. The gun clattered to the ground, a bullet chipping the tiles towards the door. His arms wound around her body tightly, and Jo raised her arms, imbedding her elbow into his chest plate roughly. He grunted, and tossed her down the hallway in retaliation. Her head hit the corner of the wall with a heavy thud.
"Fuck," she moaned, and rolled onto her back. He was on top of her in seconds, and she bit back a cry when he brutally grasped hold of her wrists. Instinct kicked in, and she brought her knees up to her chest, and drove her heels into his pelvis. He fell backwards, allowing her the time to scramble into the brightly lit kitchen. She pulled her knife out of her back pocket. It was small, but capable of causing permeant injury. She held her knife ready, crouching to anticipate his attack. Sure enough, he emerged from the dark hallway with a growl.
Green eyes widened in surprise. He stopped inches from her. "Jo?" he gasped astounded. Jo lunged forward. Anticipating her move, he stepped to the side, and caught her arm seconds before the knife had a chance to slash at his chest. His hand closed over her wrist securely, while his other arm shoved her elbow towards her face, and continued to press down. The reaction was instant. Her wrist twisted, she lost her grip on the knife, and it clattered to the floor. He loosened his grip, and pushed her backwards. Eyes widened in panic, she realised her rookie mistake when he scooped up the knife. "No," she breathed, backing away slowly.
"I thought you were dead," he gasped, his eyes raking over her.
Sensing she could possibly stall him with conversation, she responded to his statement, while thinking of an exit strategy. "I could say the same to you." Jo glanced at the back door behind her, trying to determine the distance.
"It won't work -- I'd reach you before you'd opened the door," he instructed her. He lowered the knife in his hand.
"What do you want?" Jo asked. She noted that he was only holding the knife loosely in his hand. Out of options, she launched herself recklessly towards him. With a raised leg, she kicked him in the sternum. He cried out, bending in half, and she pried the knife from his fingers. Knife now in her firm grip, she raised the knife above her head, and prepared to drive it down into his back.
"Wait!"
The desperate plea caught her off guard. Sensing her hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and drove them backwards. Jo lost her footing, and they landed on the floor with a thud. A mess of limbs, she retained her grip on her knife, and tried to roll free. He predicted her move, and rolled with her until he was straddling her. "I'm the real Dean!" he shouted.
"Prove it!" she grunted, wiggling underneath his body. Her back arched while she attempted to throw him off her hips.
He seemed momentarily stunned by her actions, and she misread the hunger on his face for murderous glee. Her legs found purchase on the ground, and she planted her heels and thrust upwards, her fists striking his chest, desperately trying to buck him off her body. He growled, and pressed her shoulders into the ground, adding more weight to her hips. "Stop! I'll prove it! Your middle name is Beth, you're mothers name is Ellen, your father was killed by a demon-"
"Not good enough," she snapped. He leant forward to increase the pressure on her squirming shoulders, and she head butted his already broken nose. He howled in pain, and let go. Jo used his moment of weakness to flip them over. Once on top of him, she raised her knife, ready to stab him.
"Ash was like a brother to you," he moaned, his green eyes pleading for her to listen. "Your dad taught you how to use a knife and you think REO Speedwagon sings from the heart-" Jo paused, stunned by his words.
Sensing her doubt, he shoved her roughly. Her head hit the wall behind her, and he snatched the knife out of her hand. Jo glared at him defiantly, while he raised the knife. She tensed, expecting him to end her… but he lowered the knife.
Yanking his sleeve towards his elbow, he hesitated before bringing the blade to his forearm. Jo's eyes widened. He grimaced and ran the blade across his arm, blood oozing from the fresh cut. "Could a shape shifter do that?" he demanded. "How many times do I have to cut myself before you people believe me?"
She stared up at him speechless. 'But how?' She thought, while hope and fear merged together in her heart. 'If he's not a shape shifter than what is he?' He handed her the knife and she took it suspiciously. Pressing a hand to his cut, he nodded at her. "Now you," he instructed and waved at her arm. "Come on, I had to do it. Prove you're the real Jo."
Jo hesitated, but upon seeing the determination in his eyes, she held out her arm and slowly drew the blade across it. She suppressed a hiss of the pain and showed him the bloody wound. "Happy?" He grunted, climbing slowly to his knees, and limped towards the small round dinning table.
"You got a towel or something?" he inquired, looking hopefully around the room. Warily, Jo climbed to her feet, pointedly keeping her back to the wall. She grabbed a box of tissue and threw them at him. Keeping an eye on him, she rinsed her cut in the kitchen sink, and picked up a dishtowel. Placing it to her wound, she pulled out the first aid kit from under the sink. The back of her head throbbed painfully. 'I bet I'm not the only one in pain,' she mused and watched him critically while he eased himself down in a chair.
Pulling out some large band-aids, she applied one to her wound. Dean rubbed his tender ribs, ignoring her suspicious glares. "If you're the real Dean," she spoke up. "Than how'd you escape hell?"
"After all the blood, you still need proof?" he asked her surprised. He applied the tissues to his arm and moped up the excess blood. A trickle of blood slithered from his nose and landed on her floor. Jo grimaced. "Some people are so hard to please." He pulled out a fresh wad of tissues, applying it to his nose, while pressing the bridge of his nose. "If you must know-"
"It is not safe here."
Castiel materialized beside Jo, his trench coat billowing. She stared at him bewildered, her breath caught in her throat.
"It's about time," Dean murmured behind a shield of tissues. "Lucy, you've got some splanning to do!"
Jo shifted her gaze to Dean incredulously. Despite the personal memories he had shared and the blood demonstration, she was still weary of the person bleeding all over her kitchen. He sounded exactly like Dean. Jo could admit to the fact that he wasn't a shape shifter, but she didn't trust that it wasn't something else supernatural. "Castiel?" she questioned the Angel beside her, hoping to gain some clarity.
Castiel greeted her with a concerned frown. "You must leave this place. Dean was followed and the demon alerted the others. You do not have much time." He turned to Dean. "Head for the mountains. I will guide you to a safe house once you are there."
"But-" Jo started to argue. 'What does Castiel expect from me? Did he seriously recruit this Dean impostor to help me complete my so-called destiny?' Jo didn't understand how Castiel could expect her to trust the thing that looked so much like Dean. She desperately sought answers to her questions, but she suspected none were forth coming.
"He is not a shape shifter or a demon," Castiel assured her, as if reading her mind. "He is the real Dean Winchester." Jo opened her mouth to protest. 'The real Dean? Dean was dead. He's in hell – not glaring over a pile of bloody tissues. There was no way…' but Castiel silenced her unspoken questions with a pleading look. "I will explain later. You are safe with him."
Jo glanced suspiciously at Dean. He was still glaring at Castiel. A drop of blood escaped the tissues, and travelled down his face. Before she knew what she was doing, she opened one of the drawers by the sink, and pulled out a zip-lock bag. Throwing open her freezer door, she grabbed a messy handful of ice, and dropped them into the bag. Sealing it shut, she grabbed the towel, and headed towards Dean.
He raised his eyebrows at her, but lowered the tissues from his nose, and sniffed. She screwed her face up at the swollen mess, and placed the make shift icepack on his nose gently. His eyes shut momentarily, only opening a moment later to wordlessly give her his thanks. Jo noted that under the streaks of blood his nose was adorned with freckles. 'I never noticed,' she thought absent-mindedly.
His fingers reached up to take over holding the icepack, and she shook herself from her thoughts to pay closer attention. Releasing the ice pack, she withdrew her hand slowly when his fingers brushed against her own. Jo had never felt anything like it. A pooling of warmth threaded through her fingers, and down her arm. Her heart missed a beat, and suddenly she was back in the roadhouse staring dreamily at the guy who had strolled into her mom's bar with haunted eyes and a cheeky smile.
Dean's pupils dilated, and he studied her face curiously. One of his rough fingers brushed by the top of her knuckles. The tingling sensation increased, and excitement flooded her stomach.
No sooner had the moment appeared, it dissolved. Jo snatched her hand away, and hurried back into the kitchen. Castiel eyed them pensively. Jo opened the oven door, retrieving her bag of weapons, and dumped them on the counter. Dean was staring at her.
Wordlessly Jo slipped her discarded shoes on, while Dean pulled the ice pack off his face, and tenderly examined his nose. She was about to make for her bedroom for additional supplies, when the light in the hallway started to flicker angrily.
Jo froze.
A heavy object landed above her head with a sickening crack. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Jo stared at the ceiling with an increasing feeling of dread. She felt Castiel's hand close over her shoulder; footsteps scurried across the roof.
"Go," Castiel shouted urgently and pointed to the front door. "Dean, get her out of here as fast as you can!"
Dean snapped to attention, abandoning the ice pack, and sprinting for the door, Jo close on his heels. They paused at the door. Dean took the offered shotgun from Jo, and slowly inched the door open. Urgent footsteps scampered above their heads, and disappeared towards the left side of her house. Jo held her breath, hand clutching the strap of her bag tightly, eyes alert for danger. Dean craned his neck, cautiously stepping outside.
A blur of black sinister shadows darted towards them. Dean fired. The demon, possessing a bald headed muscle bound man, crumbled to the ground howling in pain. Dean fired again. The neighbour's porch lights snapped on. "Hurry!" Castiel urged, and pushed Jo into Dean. "Do not let her out of your sight."
Dean nodded, exchanging a confused glance with Jo, and grasped her arm. The two hunters bolted across the lawn to the Impala. Reaching the car, he let go of her, unlocking the door with one hand, the other trained on the writhing demon. Door open, Jo threw her bag into the backseat. She had barely slid into the car, when Dean floored the accelerator. Jo spied Castiel crouching beside the demon with an emotionless look on his face.
***
It was a tense couple of minutes of checking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. The Impala snarled as they swept through sleepy streets, houses and stores a blur. Jo prayed there were no cops on random patrols that would pull Dean over for speeding.
"Are you OK?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Jo noticed Dean kept shooting her little glances. He licked his lips, hands tightened on the steering wheel, and shifted in his seat. Doubt crept into her mind. 'Has the impossible happened? Could it really be Dean sitting beside me?' He glanced over at her again, and she wondered if he could read the panic and confusion dwelling in her eyes. "Dean?" she started tentatively.
"You look pretty good for a dead person," he confessed, wiping his still slightly bloody nose with the back of his sleeve.
Jo raised her eyebrow. 'Did he just call me pretty?' Jo was temporarily overwhelmed by the scent of leather, whiskey and something distinctly Dean drifting past her nose. She clutched the seat underneath her. 'It can't be the real Dean,' she told herself sternly. There was no sense getting her hopes up if he only turned out to be a clone or something equally as strange. "Same," Jo answered him cautiously.
"But that-" he started, and glanced in the rear view mirror. A blue mini van lingered behind them. He increased their speed. "What's going on?" he hissed.
"You tell me," she answered, glancing over her shoulder. It was too dark to see inside the vans tinted windows. "Last I heard - you were in hell."
"I was." He turned onto the main highway, and Jo was grateful there were very few cars on the road. The mini van disappeared behind them. Jo turned her attention to what Dean was saying, her hands still gripping the upholstery underneath her. "Castiel yanked me out."
"Why?" She fought a useless battle to remain hope free. 'Why didn't Castiel tell me?' The last two months had been cloaked with secrecy, and she had received no words of assurance or a clue as to what the elusive Angel had planned for her. Jo would have liked to believe that after everything, Castiel might have mentioned the small detail that he was planning on rescuing Dean from hell.
"Said he had work for me," Dean said vaguely, interrupting her from her thoughts. He glanced over at her, raking his curious eyes up and down her body. Jo dismissed his gaze by looking out the window, and he snapped his attention back to the road. "What about you? How do you know Castiel?"
Jo bit her lip. She considered telling him the truth. However, part of her was still convinced he was a trick, and that Castiel had conjured him as a test of her faith and determination. Jo felt sick with doubt. The little movements, and noises Dean made helped to dissolve her distrust. "A demon killed me," she finally admitted quietly. "But he…Castiel… he came to me and gave me a choice."
"What kind of a choice?" He peered over his shoulder at a car full of teenagers in a black Jeep. Changing lanes, he waited to see if they would follow him. They drove past without a glance of interest towards him, and he released a heavy breath.
Watching the teenagers merge into another lane, she couldn't deny the envy she felt for their carefree lifestyle. She bristled at her own traitorous feelings. 'I chose this life,' she reminded herself. She spied Dean scratching the back of his head with a wary look on his face. She realised he was still waiting for her to answer his question. "Um, he said I could help the Angels fight the demons or I could die."
"Some choice."
"No." She shook her head in disagreement. "I could have gone on to Heaven. It seemed… nice there. Safe." He glanced at her bewildered, before dragging his eyes back to the road.
"Heaven?" he asked with disbelief evident in his tone.
Jo nodded. "You went to hell - is it really so hard to believe?"
"Maybe," he muttered. He glanced over at her again, and she realised he must have noticed her tense body language, because he gave her a gentle smile. "It's ok. I promise I'm the real Dean." Jo nodded but didn't relax. Instead, she stared at the man in the semi trailer beside them. The truck driver continued to drive oblivious to her scrutiny, and eventually Dean over took him. "So… how long?"
"What?" she replied, distracted. Her heart was still beating rapidly from narrowly escaping a demon attack. Jo wondered if Castiel had managed to fend off any remaining demons. Guilt flared in her stomach. 'I hope he's OK.'
"How long have you… you know… been alive?" Dean asked. He sniffed and raised a hand to his nose – the bleeding had stopped, but it was still swollen.
"Since August."
"I bet your mom is relieved. Bobby of course has no idea. Or at least I don't think he does… he's not that good of an actor," Dean mused.
Jo bit her lip, and looked down at her lap. "My mom doesn't know. Nobody knows," she explained sadly. "Castiel said I had to disappear - but obviously I slipped up because you found me easy enough."
"I didn't find you," Dean rushed to correct her. "Castiel sent me. I was told I was looking for an 'Angela'." He frowned, "Did he tell you how you're supposed to help stop the demons or what we're supposed to be doing?"
"No," she answered truthfully. "He told me to go into hiding and that he would send someone to help me. He was very insistent that no one know I was alive or the demons would see me as a target."
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Dean clucked his tongue. Jo looked at him. "What?"
"Do you ever get the feeling that we are just puppets to them?" he inquired with a disgruntled frown. "They never tell me anything. I'm sick of being jerked around." Jo nodded half-heartedly in agreement, not really comprehending why he sounded so upset. She assumed Dean had his own history with Castiel. They fell back into silence. Jo resumed staring out the window until Dean leant forward and inserted his cassette. The sounds of Metallica filled the car and she glanced at him curiously. He grinned, "Sorry. No REO in my car."
Jo's heart stuttered painfully at his casual use of a private joke. She forced herself to turn away again. Doubt continued to pluck away at her mind. Was it really so hard for her to believe Dean was alive? Castiel had raised her from the dead after all -- Plus the Winchesters were known for escaping death by the skin of their teeth. "Like a damn cat with nine lives," she muttered to herself.
"What?" Dean asked.
"Nothing," Jo mumbled, embarrassed that she had spoken her thoughts out loud.
Gradually the traffic thinned, and Jo started to relax as the adrenaline dissolved. Worry and concern replaced panic, and she started to fret about what she was going to do next. She squinted into the dark, trying to make out the mountains on the horizon.
Dean tore his eyes from the road and looked across at her. She noted the dried blood on his face, and grimaced. While part of her thought he probably deserved a right hook to the nose; she was starting to feel bad. "Sorry," she spoke up earning a confused look from him. "For the nose… I thought you were a shape shifter."
He shrugged nonchalantly. "My fault. I would have done the same if you had broken into my house. Especially when you're meant to be dead." He grinned boyishly and Jo's heart began to beat faster.
Something inside of her clicked. Sucking in a startled breath, Jo realised she was looking at the very smile she thought she'd never seen again. 'He's alive! He's alive and sitting right next to me.' Jo struggled to maintain even breaths.
"You alright?" he asked, glancing at her concerned. His hand strayed from the steering wheel and gently nudged her leg. "If you're gonna be sick please don't do it in my car. I'll pull over."
Heart pounding, ears ringing, she shook her head at his comment. "I'm Ok," she breathed. His hand returned to the steering wheel and she found it easier to breathe. Dean looked worried. "A lot has happened in the last couple of months," she explained. "It kinda just hit me."
Dean nodded sympathetically. "I hear that. It's been ever so helpful that Castiel pops in when it's convenient for him, but then magically disappears when you need some answers."
"I came as fast as I could."
Dean swerved violently to the left as Castiel appeared without warning in the backseat. "Don't do that!" Dean swore angrily, swinging the car back onto the road. He glared at Castiel in the rear view mirror before he glanced across at Jo. She struggling to sit up properly after being slammed into the passenger door. "You ok?"
"Yeah." She nodded shakily, and turned around in her seat. "Castiel is it safe?"
Castiel dipped his head. "They are headed in the opposite direction."
"Why didn't you just kill them?" Dean asked frustrated.
"It would have aroused suspicion," Castiel answered with a deadpanned expression on his face. "I left fake breadcrumbs for them to follow instead."
"So what now?" Dean pressed impatiently.
"Take the next turn off."
Dean growled with frustration and took the upcoming turn off. "Come on Cass, I need more than that. I need the who, what, when and whys?"
"Dean-" Jo warned sensing that Dean's temper was about to be unleashed.
"No!" he snapped looking agitated. "I've been kept in the dark for too long now. I need to know what's going on."
"You have to be patient," she advised, noticing that Castiel was glowering at the back of Dean's head. She placed a soothing hand on Dean's shoulder, and tried not to acknowledge the thrill that coursed through her at the contact.
Dean ignored her and increased his speed. "Excuse me if I am not in the mood to be patient, Jo. I've been to hell, ok? You don't know what it was like-"
"Yes, she does."
Dean's eyes flicked dangerously to the rear view mirror. He clenched his teeth and his voice was as sharp as steel, "What?"
Castiel met his gaze calmly. "I allowed Joanna a glimpse of your location."
"What?!?!" Dean exploded. His eyes snapped to Jo in surprise, and she nodded hesitantly with confirmation. "Are you running tour guides to hell now?" he snarled at Castiel. "Did you get her a t-shirt from the hell gift shop too?"
"Dean, stop-"
"I can't believe you did that Cass! What kind of a sick-"
"Dean!"
"What?!"
"The road!" Jo shouted, and pointed at the windscreen alarmed. Dean swore and swerved, narrowly missing a towering collection of cactus on the side of the road. Huffing, he seethed at the road in front of him.
Jo looked over her shoulder and sighed. "He's gone," she told him with a disappointed frown.
"Good," Dean declared, shifting in his seat angrily.
"No. Not good," she corrected with a frustrated sigh. She had forgotten what a temper Dean had, and how unreasonable he could be. Unfortunately she didn't have his younger brother at her disposal to make him see sense. Her heart stilled. Sam. Jo wondered why he wasn't glued to his brother side. "Where's Sam?"
Dean gritted his teeth. "Tweety Bird wanted Sam to have some shore leave."
Jo bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. No good would come from Dean giving the Angel a new nickname. Obviously Castiel had his reasons for wanting Sam away from Dean (which Jo thought was an impossible task), and she suspected it might have to do with Sam using his powers. "Well next time I'll do the talking, or we'll never get any answers."
"Is that right?" he challenged with a scowl.
She looked across at him determined. Dean pouted and all her anger vanished. Jo tried not to laugh -- she suspected he would have stamped his foot if he weren't driving. "Yup," she said struggling to hide her grin. "Now keep your eyes upfront hell boy," she ordered.
Dean looked over at her incredulously. She raised a challenging eyebrow at him and he frowned. Turning back to the road, he started grumbling under his breath. Jo reached forward, and turned up the volume on the radio to drown him out.
***
Two hours later they stopped to fill the car with gas and stock up on food. Dean had disappeared inside the small store to pay, when Castiel reappeared in the backseat. Startled, Jo greeted him with a gentle smile.
"I thought I instructed him not to let you out of his sight," he whispered looking anxiously around the car.
"Is everything alright?" she asked him concerned. Jo glanced around the busy gas station and kept a suspicious eye on every person that entered and exited.
"There is a lot of demon activity," Castiel confided. "It is difficult to monitor it all."
"Shouldn't we stay and fight?" she asked, turning in her seat to look at him properly.
Castiel shook his head and turned to watch Dean progress in the line to pay. "It's imperative that the two of you arrive at this location quickly." He handed her a piece of paper. "Stay there as long as you can. Do not draw attention to yourselves. Do not contact anyone."
"What about Sam?" Jo asked. Dean finished paying and was heading back to the car with a bag full of food and drinks. "He's going to be suspicious if Dean disappears. You can't expect Dean to abandon his brother."
Castiel frowned and Jo suspected that he was aware that separating the two would be difficult. "It is proving to be a significant problem."
"Hey-"
Jo jumped as Dean shoved her awake. She looked up dazed, and turned around in her seat to find the backseat empty. She let out a tired sigh, sinking back into seat. Dean was staring at her apprehensively. "Castiel," she murmured and realised she was clutching a piece of paper in her hand. She opened the folded note and read the address out loud.
"Guess you weren't kidding about doing the talking," he smirked, starting the car. When she didn't respond, he glanced back at her. "You OK?"
Jo nodded, running an exhausted hand through her hair. "Yeah," she mumbled. "Just peachy." She waved the piece of paper at him. "The safe house should only be a couple of hours from here."
"Then what?"
"We wait," she told him bluntly.
"Great," he grumbled. "I love waiting around."
"Would you prefer being tortured in hell?" she retorted with a raised eyebrow.
Dean shrugged. "Ask me again in a couple of hours."
***
"Anything?" Ruby asked when Sam returned to the SUV. Two police officers were running crime scene tape around the house across the street, while the neighbours looked on curiously from their lawns.
Sam shook his head, tucking his FBI badge into his pocket. "She's long gone. No sign of Dean either." Ruby started the car and drove away. Sam ran an exhausted hand through his long hair; it had been a long day. "She was expecting company though. There were demon wards and salt everywhere. The cops think she was into witch craft, but the neighbours are insisting she was a nice, normal girl, who never gave them trouble."
"We could try the GPS for Dean's phone signal again?"
Sam screwed up his face. "No, he knows that would be the first thing I would check," Sam replied, watching the scenery flick by. He frowned and turned towards Ruby. "You know what was weird though? There was something familiar about the house."
Ruby looked intrigued. "What? You think you had a vision or something of the house before?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. They were dusting for prints in her bedroom and some of her clothing look familiar."
"Sam," Ruby started with a laugh. "I don't know how to tell you this, but not a lot of women wear one of a kind clothes. Most of us all shop at the same places." Ruby chuckled. "We can't all have Paris Hilton's money."
"Maybe." Sam didn't look convinced. "I dunno Ruby. I just got a strange vibe."
"It could mean you are just picking up on Dean. You guys are really close, so you might have sensed his essence."
Sam screwed up his face in disgust. "Ew."
Ruby rolled her eyes, shoving Sam in the ribs. "Don't be such a girl. I'm serious, Sam. We haven't really tested the full strength of your abilities. Maybe this is just another one of them."
"Yeah, but we agreed I wasn't going to do that for a while," Sam reminded her with a stern glance. Ruby shrugged and flicked her hair over her shoulder.
"Whatever, you're the boss."
Sam sighed and he contemplated the car beside them while Ruby stopped at a traffic light. "If they were such good powers, why can't they give me a clear indication of where Dean is?"
"Cheer up big guy!" Ruby urged, and took her foot off the brake when the light changed. "I'll drop you at a motel and go and do some research of my own. Sometimes a good summoning spell is better than a GPS anyway."
"Are you sure?"
Ruby nodded and patted his lap. "As sure as I know that I am awesome and that you're going to shout me a bowl of French fries when we find your brother."
"Deal."
So? Thoughts? Questions? Flames? Be gentle :D
I should also mention a big thanks to my dad, who is a weapons instructor, who gave me a quick lesson on how an experienced person would use a knife, and how to deflect an attack. A perfectly good shirt was sacrificed for research for this chapter - it now was a slash mark *sigh*