A.N. – This fic is a collaboration yadda yadda yadda. Love reviews yadda yadda blah blah…
Thank you to everyone who has read and/or reviewed so far.
Chapter Nine
Like the majority of evils in the world, she had been born of humanity.
The woman who had carried her had done so within a body ravaged by age, and Leila's very existence was a contradiction of the laws of nature. The woman in question had been a loyal servant of Lucifer's for many decades. She had not survived the brutal birth of the demon she had nurtured, and the witch's soul now resided somewhere within the fiery depths of hell; for her troubles, she was shown no more mercy than the last ill-fated mortal.
The catalyst for her creation had been the birth of Christ himself, although Leila had arrived one thousand years after. Enraged by his father's decision to create a human child in his own image, Lucifer had decided to conduct an experiment of his own. At first, he could not have hoped for a more favourable result than Leila.
And yet as the child grew, it became apparent that the evil Lucifer had so desired to create now yearned to overthrow him. Leila knew no loyalty and cared little for her parentage. In a fit of jealousy, Lucifer had strived to create a child that resembled him, and ultimately he had succeeded in his plan beyond his wildest imaginings. Leila was as ruthless as she was ambitious and, all too soon, the constraints of hell proved far too much for her to endure.
Consumed by thoughts of power and domination, Leila amassed a group of followers in her father's once loyal legion of demons. With false promises of glory and success over their creator, Leila led the primal demons to their eventual doom. The handful of survivors of the great battle were cast into another dimension to live as savages, just in case Lucifer were to ever find further use for them. As punishment for her betrayal, Leila was condemned to purgatory by the one who had first sought to give her life.
She had waited in limbo for almost a thousand years; a place where she had neither form nor true consciousness, and where time stretched infinitely onwards. Leila had grown unbearably bored with her imprisonment; not even the torment of the trapped human souls served to amuse her. Purgatory was nothing more than an endless blank canvas where the only sounds to reach her ears was the cries of those who had failed to move on; those who had realised their death too late to be taken into the light, and those too who preferred the agony of limbo to the alternative of hell. Leila would never fully understand the latter.
The longer Leila remained caged, the more her rage grew, and the worse the revenge she swore upon her father. When the time eventually arrived and Leila sensed the shift in power beginning to occur, she knew that it would not be long before her followers attempted to free her. She would be brought forth upon the Earth and humanity, and would rain destruction and death down upon anyone who got in the way of her plans to depose her father.
For the first time in centuries, Leila's spirits soared.
x-x-x
It was a cruel and unusual punishment, and Jo was not sure exactly how much more she could take. Between listening to the subconscious whining, bitching and occasionally suggestive comments of the hunters, and Dean's performance of AC/DC's entire back catalogue, Jo was about fit to scream.
"Dean!" she snapped, poking him forcefully in the side and shooting him a thoroughly exasperated expression, "would you quit singing in your head? It's making me crazy."
"I could move on to Black Sabbath's greatest hits if you'd prefer?" he grinned charmingly, hoping an attempt at humour would lighten her mood; apparently not.
"Please, please stop singing, okay? I'd rather you just thought... Dean thoughts- whatever they may be," she added ruefully.
Dean appeared to consider this for a moment before speaking, "Fine. But I should probably apologise in advance then because I'm a..."
"Pervert?" she supplied, biting back a smile as she watched an utterly indignant expression settle on his face.
"A guy," he corrected as he settled his arm about her waist and pinched her playfully.
"Same thing from my experience," Duke commented, frowning at Dean and Jo as he spoke. "With five daughters at home, all I can say is I'm real glad for my shotgun."
Dean chuckled, although there was something decidedly nervous about his countenance now. He crossed his legs and shot Duke a tentative smile.
He's joking, right? He's gotta be joking. He's not joking.
"This is going to drive me insane," Jo groaned, gripping her hair in her hands and tugging on the ends of it in a despairing gesture. "Why the hell did they do this?"
"Be damned if I can figure it out," Duke replied, shooting a glance at the gate, which appeared for the moment to be unguarded. The watch tower was also vacant, and the hunters had begun to wonder what matters could possibly be detaining their captors.
Jo sat back against the cold stone wall and stared forlornly out across the group of hunters. She sighed as she was met with a chorus of disjointed inner monologues and ramblings.
"I can't live like this, Dean," she said, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes in an attempt to drown out the cacophony of thoughts inside her head.
Dean glanced down at her sharply, suddenly realising the extent of the demon's handiwork. He grasped her hand and squeezed it until Jo met his gaze, "Hey, don't talk like that. We'll fix it."
"How?" She laughed at the irony of the situation, "you know for years I was trying to figure out what was going on in that head of yours. Be careful what you wish for, huh?"
Dean smiled and drew her in closer to his side, glancing at Duke who wore a similarly troubled expression.
"We'll fix it," he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Hey guys, incoming," Duke warned in a low voice as the sound of a key being twisted in a rusty padlock coaxed his gaze towards the gate. Three demons, each armed and wearing some form of leather body armour, were entering the compound. The hunters standing alongside the gate recoiled and Dean thought that he could not blame them for their fear.
"Ah, hell," Dean muttered, jumping to his feet and pulling Jo up beside him. Her entire body tensed and Dean recognised the defensive stance that she eased into. Duke did likewise, standing his ground next to Dean and Jo, whilst the rest of the hunters drifted to various corners of the prison. They had all witnessed what the primal demons had done to Jo, and not one among them was eager for similar treatment.
Jo was unsurprised when the group of demons focused on her once more, beginning to march towards her in impressive unison. They really did behave like the remnants of a well-trained army.
The demons that flanked their leader proceeded to aim spears at Duke and Dean in a gesture of warning, yet curiously no such weapon was aimed at Jo.
"You will not be harmed."
Jo frowned and wheeled around in an attempt to locate the source of the booming voice. It was unbearably loud and insufferable, almost like nails against a chalkboard but with a decidedly more threatening feel to it.
Dean caught Jo's eye and shot her a confused look appeared to go unnoticed. It was not until the demon extended a hand toward her that realisation dawned. Jo felt her stomach sink as the demon locked eyes on her and something resembling a smile crossed it's hideous features.
"Ahh, crap," Jo muttered, eyeing the creature with suspicion as it stared back at her. This was definitely not going to be good.
"What?" Dean demanded, wincing as the tip of the spear was pressed against his Adam's apple. He thought he felt the tiniest trickle of blood ooze from the point of the spear but he could not be certain.
"Leave him alone," said Jo, slowly and carefully emphasising each individual syllable. She was not sure whether the demons would understand the spoken word quite as well as telepathic communication, and so she thought her demand for good measure. She hoped that her mental command was filled with as much venom as she had managed to inject into her voice.
"As you wish."
The demon that seemed central to the group whipped it's gaze around to meet that of the demon wielding the spear at Dean's throat. A significant glance passed between the two and then the spear was lowered, Dean breathing an evident sigh of relief.
"The demons can hear my thoughts," Jo said quietly, folding her arms across her chest and peering at the demons with some interest.
"Yeah, good thing for them they can't hear mine," Dean snarled, his heart pounding in his chest. He was almost afraid to hear what they wanted with Jo, and the intent in the demon's eyes, as well as the strange air of solemnity they had adopted was starting to seriously concern him.
"You have been chosen."
The demon bowed his head reverently at the great honour they were about to bestow upon their captive.
"Chosen?" Jo winced, "For what?"
Dean and Duke glanced sideways at each other, both now alarmed. The word 'chosen' did nothing to allay their mutual fears.
"What does that mean?" asked Dean, his eyes narrowing at the demons who were evidently unperturbed by his attentions.
"Would you shut up and let me find out?" Jo replied, shooting Dean an irritated glance which he deflected by raising both hands in front of himself. Jo cocked her head and directed her blunt tone towards the demons. "Chosen for what?"
"To be the vessel."
"Shit..." Jo muttered, chocolate brown eyes widening at the revelation. Dean's gaze was upon her again, his lips twisted into a frown, but Jo paid no mind to him for the moment.
"You will be the flesh that brings her forth."
Jo held up her hands and took a step backwards.
"Oh no, you got the wrong girl! I'm not bringing anything forth," she stated, a surge of panic suddenly overcoming her.
"Bring forth?" Dean's eyes widened, "bring forth what?"
"Dean, one more time!" she yelled irritably, her fists clenching at her sides. The demon seemed unphased by her refusal and simply nodded it's head. Clearly her agreement to such an 'honour' was not necessary and it seemed they were stating a predetermined fact, rather than asking for her approval.
"I'm not being anybody's meat suit, okay?" she widened her eyes to convey her feelings on the subject and folded her arms across her chest to demonstrate her resolve.
"We do not seek your permission or approval."
If it was at all possible for thoughts to be sneered, Jo knew that the demon was now doing thus. However, she tossed her head and let out a derisive snort.
"You expect me to just sit back and go quietly?" she demanded, her expression one of utter contempt. "Please. I'm not going to be any demon's bitch."
"To be selected as her vessel is the highest of honours."
Jo settled both hands on the curve of her hips, her fury now in full swing.
"Her vessel?" Jo seethed, her lips twitching around the words. "By her you mean..."
"The daughter of Darkness herself."
"Daughter of darkness?" Jo chuckled dryly and found a shred of actual amusement in the puzzled expression that traveled across the demons disfigured face.
"Are you talking porn?" Dean asked askance, one eyebrow arched. Jo groaned inwardly and for the moment opted to ignore Dean.
"Leila will devour your world, and all of humanity."
"Yeah, yeah," Jo waved a dismissive hand, "the whole 'wipe out the world' shtick. Nothing we haven't heard before, right guys?"
"Great, just... great," Dean grumbled in response, envisioning another apocalypse to avert in the midst of the one he and Sam were currently trying to thwart.
"And what's with this whole sexist thing? What, you couldn't pick on one of the guys? You got thirty people locked up in here and you choose me because I'm a girl? What is that?" she screwed up her face and shook her head in exasperation, barely pausing for breath before she continued. "So you can tell your skanky girlfriend that she can find another willing chump, because she's not sashaying her nasty, black eyed ass anywhere near me!"
Jo was visibly seething, just about done with demons, hell-hounds or anything else of the supernatural variety that seemed determined to maim, kill or possess her that week.
"Woah, down girl," Dean quipped, suitably impressed by Jo's guts and also her display of unabashed wrath. At a single poisonous look from Jo, Dean was silenced. In that short second, Dean Winchester found himself glad that Jo currently had no access to weaponry of any kind.
The demons seemed to deliberate Jo's words before once again she found the thoughts of the leader pervading her own mind. She was growing tired of the intrusion but knew that there was little she could do to prevent it for the minute.
"We will begin at twilight."
"That movie blows," Jo snarled, her eyes flashing as she turned on her heel and stomped away from both the small circle of hunters, and the demons surrounding them. It was evident that Jo was incensed by the mental exchange, and as she stormed off to brood in the corner of the yard, the hunters underfoot scattered.
The demons withdrew from the prison, leaving the hunters alone once again. The gates closed with a resounding slam of metal against metal and the entire enclosure fell silent.
Dean grinned inanely as he watched Jo pacing in the corner, "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
He winced as he felt a sudden sharp slap across the back of his head and turned to see Duke strolling past, grunting his disapproval. Dean smiled weakly and jerked his thumb at Jo, indicating that he intended attempt to talk to her or else get yelled at for his efforts. Most probably, it would end up the latter.
Duke's eyes remained locked on Dean's back as he approached Jo, shoulders slumped and head ever so slightly bowed. It was evident that in Jo Harvelle, Dean had more than met his match, and Duke could not help but think that this shift of power would be good for the boy. Chuckling, Duke turned his attention away from the couple, affording them as much privacy as was possible.
"How you holding up?" Dean's voice trembled, nerves shining through in a way that Jo had witnessed only a handful of times before. Jo continued to trail her fingertips across the dirt and refrained from answering the question. Her mood was obvious and she was working hard not to explode at everyone around her.
"You really want me to answer that, Dean?" she did not bother meeting his gaze, but edged a little closer as he sat down next to her and hesitantly placed a hand on her knee.
"Jo..." he began softly, his head suddenly snapping up as she interrupted him.
"Dean, if you tell me it's gonna be okay, or that you're gonna somehow magically fix this..." she warned, trailing off as a suitable threat evaded her. Jo heaved a sigh as Dean reached across the gap between them in order to brush a wisp of hair from Jo's face. A small frown graced her features and she consented to peer up into his eyes.
"I can't hear your thoughts." She was startled by this, clearly.
"Guess I'm not really thinking about much right now," Dean replied in a hushed tone, caressing her cheek with his fingertips.
The somewhat snarky reply Jo immediately thought of died on her lips as Dean leant closer and kissed her, not with real passion but instead with a definite tenderness. Jo moved closer, preparing to lose herself in the embrace when Dean's sudden mumbling against her lips shattered the moment.
"Cas!" Dean exclaimed in a rush, leaping back from Jo as if the answer to all their problems had suddenly unfolded right before him.
Jo blinked her confusion and flashed Dean a wry smile, "Cas?"
Dean stood up and hauled Jo unceremoniously to her feet as inspiration struck him.
"As Freudian slips go Dean, that's gotta be the weirdest I've heard for a while," said Jo, sarcasm alive in her tone. Dean turned to her and Jo noted the faint glimmer of hope that now shone in his eyes. Inexplicably, her own spirits lifted. Dean was a seasoned pessimist, and so the fact that he had managed to find something in all of this to ignite even a spark of hope made Jo feel just a little better.
"Castiel is an angel, right?"
Jo shot Dean an incredulous look, "Yeah, I got that part. The wings and stuff were sort of a giveaway."
"Angels can see into people's minds," Dean explained in a whisper, leaning closer to Jo now to avoid being overheard. "If you could try to project your thoughts to Cas, then maybe he could hear you."
"Kind of like a long distance call," Jo finished, beginning to bounce on the balls of her feet as a wave of excitement washed over her.
She glanced up nervously at the watchtower, noting the absence of the guards. She was hopeful that meant they too would not hear her mental call, although the reason for their absence unnerved her just as much as that prospect. Jo felt sure it had something to do with the impending ceremony but she was trying her hardest not to dwell on the idea.
"So, I just... shout?" she looked to Dean for direction. He shrugged, keeping a watchful eye on the other hunters. Dean was suspicious by nature and not sure of just how much trust they could place in their fellow captives.
Jo closed her eyes, feeling ridiculous as she noted that was probably not necessary, but finding that it focused her thoughts nonetheless.
Taking a deep, steadying breath first, Jo muttered, "Here goes nothing..."