Note: This story has been on Hiatus for nearly a year and a half. A lot has happened on the show since then. At the time I started writing this, little was known about the apocalypse world, so consider this Canon Divergent or AU.
Dean and Jo spent the next day exploring the mansion. With the arrival of dawn, the wolves had moved on.
As he moved slowly from room to room, he glanced ahead as Jo, who handled the rock salt rifle, entered first. They'd come across the many spirits that haunted the house, but so far none of them seemed interested in harming them. The young girls, all dressed in 17th-century puritan bonnets and dresses appeared at irregular intervals. Sometimes in a room, they entered, sometimes in the hallway, but always watching, silently, their eyes pleading.
"Do you think they are trying to tell us something?" Jo asked after she shot at the last little girl, causing her to disappear. "Should we salt and burn their bones?"
"Probably," Dean replied as he inched along. "But I wouldn't even begin to imagine where they might all be buried, and we don't exactly have time to track them down. I don't think this place has been touch, except by hunters, in centuries." It went against every fiber of Dean's being to leave a haunted house alone like this, but they had a mission to focus on right now, and he didn't want to face another night here surrounded by werewolves.
Just when he was about to give up on the weapons, they moved to the last unexplored room of the house, and their luck paid off. It was crammed full of guns, ammo, grenades, armor, and various other armaments.
"Jackpot," Dean commented, a grin coming over his face as he dropped his duffel bag and eagerly started loading the weapons in. "If we hurry, we might be able to get out of here on time."
"And then what?" Jo asked as she knelt to fill her bag. She set the rock salt rifle down, and just as she did so, a spirit was suddenly standing in front of her. A young girl of about 12 years old wearing a bonnet and a plain green dress: Dean tensed and moved to grab his pistol, but Jo held up a hand.
"Wait," she said. "I think she's trying to say something." Dean squinted at her in disbelief but watched as the spirit floated past them both and came to stand by the window. She glanced at them both. Exchanging glances, they both stood up and followed her. As Dean peering into the yard below them, he sighed.
What greeted him from this vantage were a row of crosses marking graves and a row of half-decayed stone grave slabs.
"She wants us to put them to rest," Dean said somberly. He took in a breath. That would be a lot of work, and they'd miss their opportunity to get back to the impala before the dark. But he felt the sympathy for the girls. He realized that their deaths, so many centuries ago now, were wrongful and that they'd spent all this time forever stuck in limbo.
"Come on, we have work to do," Dean told Jo who nodded. They gathered the weapons then headed outside armed with shovels, oil, and a lighter.
The work was grueling, he and Jo each worked on their own grave, he starting on one end of the row of stone, Jo starting on the other. Hours later, as they both worked together on the last one, pulling the coffin open to reveal a small skeleton, and quickly igniting it with flames, Dean felt satisfied. He felt guilty about his earlier thoughts of wanting to leave this place behind. He'd made sure to glance at every name on each and noted their years of birth and death. None of the girls were older than 14 and their instructor, resting in the middle grave, was in her twenties.
"Those assholes who murdered these girls probably lived out their days in comfort," Jo commented bitterly, some hours later as the two of them watched the last grave burn.
"Yeah whether they were witches or not is beside the point," Dean couldn't believe he was saying this. He used to hate witches. Still did to a point. But Rowena and others he'd met had given him probable doubt over what he once believed. Always lumping witches into the category of things to hunt, he'd recently realized that many of them only wanted to practice their beliefs in peace and weren't any harm to anyone.
"These girls probably weren't even witches," Jo commented. "They were probably just women who showed some hint of independent thought. In the 17th century, that was enough for a bunch of misogynistic bastards to want them dead."
"Touche," Dean agreed as they watched the flames dancing about in the grave. He glanced at Jo as the glow of the fire reflected off her face. He thought he saw some semblance of emotion glistening in her eyes, but it was all too fleeting as she turned to him.
"What now?" she asked. "Do we spend another night here?"
"I guess," he said as he glanced up at the tree-shrouded sky above. "We-" he was interrupted as a long howl pierced the stillness of the early evening sky. The sun had barely begun to make its descent, and it sounded like they were about to have company early.
"Here they come," he said, digging through his duffel bag and throwing her a rifle and grabbing one for himself. He tossed her a pack of silver bullets and quickly started loading his own weapon. He'd just about finished when he suddenly heard shots ringing out followed by a few yipes.
"What…" Jo conveyed surprise as they both whirled towards the sound. Dean just about doubled over as Charlie and Claire emerged from the forest, each holding rifles and beaming proudly as they gazed at the dumbfounded expressions they encountered.
"Hey bitches," Charlie greeted cheerfully. "Ready to peace out of here?"
"Hell yeah," Dean agreed eagerly. "How the hell did you even find us?"
"Sam called us after he tried to get ahold of you," Charlie explained. "We managed to track your badass car. We'd better hurry those mutts will be bringing friends."
Dean felt puzzled as he glanced over at Claire. "Wait, Claire, how are you here?" he asked. The blonde shrugged.
"Calm down," she muttered. "Before you go running off to tell Jody, she knows I'm gone. Told her I needed some me time." Dean noticed that Claire held a mason jar in one hand, her rifle in the other.
"What's that?" he asked.
"We'll explain everything," Charlie interrupted urgently. "Now, let's haul ass."
Dean wasn't about to argue. With four of them, they stood a chance against the werewolves. But it was still a fight. They hurried through the forest and were ambushed halfway. The fighting was fierce, but they managed to get away, and finally, the road and the impala came into view. Illuminated under the light of a street lamp, the impala and Charlie's small red car were both welcomed sights.
Safe! They were finally safe. Dean hurried to his car, and as Jo got into the passenger seat, they sped off, Charlie and Claire following suit in their own vehicle.
Later that evening, Dean's stomach growled in anticipation as the server placed a massive burger in front of him. Beside him, Jo's burger was almost as big. After not having eaten in nearly two days, they were both famished. Across from them, Charlie and Claire ate their meals.
"So let me get this straight," Dean asked, his voice muffled as he shoveled fries into his mouth at lightning speed. "Gabriel wants us to lock out heaven and put all the angels in some kind of safe house?"
"That's the gist of it," Charlie explained. "And to do everything, we need a lot of ingredients. Hence the werewolf heart."
Dean glanced across at Claire, who ate her fries as she listened to everything. "And what does Claire here have to do with any of this?"
Charlie and Claire exchanged expressions, and Claire rolled her eyes. "We sort of met up at the bunker," Charlie explained. "She said she knew you and came by to clear her head. She said she was a hunter, so I let her tag along."
"Hunter my ass," Dean growled, thinking about how her presence might pose a problem. He didn't like the idea of Claire being in the kind of danger they no doubt would encounter with all of this.
"I'm a big girl, Dean," Claire added. "I want to help out. I helped your ass, didn't I? Which makes twice that I saved your ass by the way."
Of course, how could Dean forget Claire rescuing him and Sam from the lizard jungle planet? He had to admit to himself that Claire had the potential to be an excellent hunter. She was brave and resourceful. But she was also young, inexperienced, and troubled. And an amateur was a liability.
"Right," Dean wasn't convinced. He glanced at Charlie. "Can we talk for a moment? Alone?"
"Sure," Charlie got up from her seat, and Dean followed her outside the cafe, leaving Claire and Jo behind to finish their meal. When they found themselves standing in front of the impala as it sat parked in the parking lot, Dean turned to Charlie.
"Look, I don't know if this is a good idea," he began. "Claire is young. And she's troubled. We left her with a friend of ours who has been looking out for her."
Charlie looked Dean over, pursing her lips a little in reflective contemplation. "In my world, we take all the help we can get," she explained. "I've been fighting a war against angels since I was barely her age and if I can do it, so can she. You grow up quick where I'm from."
"You mean like Jo?" Dean said, accusingly. "She's not the Jo I knew. And you aren't the Charlie I knew. The Charlie I knew would never endanger a kid-"
"Alright, hold it right there," Charlie held up a hand, cutting Dean off. "First off, I don't know how many times we have to go over this, but we aren't from your world. We do things a little different where I am from. I'm the leader of these women, they follow me, and if Claire wants to help out, she can. She's not a child, and she's capable of making her own decisions. Got it?"
"I-" Dean tried to argue. But Charlie wasn't having it.
"Got it?" she repeated firmly, emphasizing her point. Dean was forced to agree. "Good. You had better go get some rest; we have a long drive ahead of us."
"Drive?" Dean was puzzled.
"Yeah, we are meeting Eileen and Hannah at your Kansas bunker to discuss Gabriel's scavenger hunt." Charlie handed him a set of keys and pointed across the street to a motel. "I got you a room, go ahead and make yourself at home."
"But my burger," Dean complained. "And uh I don't know how it is in your world, but here we are still expected to pay the bill."
"I got it," Charlie explained, pulling out her wallet and sifting through the cards. "And I'll have someone bring you a snack. For now, my girls and I need to have a meeting. Alone. See you in the morning."
The last statement was abrupt and final; Charlie made it clear it wasn't opened for debate. Dean was left dumbfounded as she turned and strode back into the restaurant. Dean frowned. What had just happened? He felt as though the big kid's clubhouse had just rejected him. He wasn't used to this at all. Not being in charge. He was always in charge. It didn't matter who he was in charge of, whether it was Sam or Cas, he called the shots. His Charlie…
Dean sighed at that last thought. He had to stop doing that. He couldn't see past the women he once knew. The brash, independent, reckless young girl from the Road House and the brave, nerdy, yet somewhat timid redhead he'd claimed as his kid sister.
Despite his impulse to crash their meeting anyway and reclaim his half-eaten burger, Dean obediently returned to the room Charlie had gotten him and lay down on the bed. He thought back to the spirits he and Jo had released. He was glad that even with the weight of war and their mission looming over them all, they were able to take the time to put those girls to rest.
He had just begun to doze off when he heard a knock on the door. Rolling to his feet, he opened it, letting Jo inside. He glanced at the styrofoam to go box and the brown paper bag in her hands as she came in and he locked the door behind her.
"Thought you might be in here stewing after being ejected from the big girl's table," she said as she put her cargo on the table and strode over to the first of the twin beds, sitting down. "Don't take it personally, Charlie and I are used to making our plans and filling everyone in later. Eileen and Hannah are usually part of the huddle…" she trailed away as she pulled off her boots and tossed them on the floor.
"Yeah well I still don't like the idea of Claire being here," Dean began as he stood in front of her. "Jody is going to kick my ass, and Cas is going to be pissed."
"Cas?" Jo raised a brow. "What does he have to do with it?"
"He's her father," Dean explained. "Well, you know. His vessel, Jimmy Novak. It might be a bit of a shocker for him."
Jo frowned realization dawning on her. "Oh," she commented. "She didn't bother to disclose that little detail to Charlie."
Dean huffed and watched her for a moment before letting his gaze roam over to the table. "What's this?"
"Your burger," Jo replied, getting to her feet and waltzing over to open the box. Dean grinned when he found his half-eaten burger and bed of fries inside. When Jo moved onto the paper bag and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey, he raised a brow.
"I don't remember that being part of the special," he commented as she opened the bottle.
"Yeah, well, do you know how long its been since I've had a nice shot?" Jo informed him. "In my world, alcohol is much more valuable as an antiseptic."
Jo pulled the lid off and before Dean could say anything else, knocked her head back and took a long swig straight from the bottle. A few gulps and a satisfied exhale later, and Jo passed the bottle to Dean.
"I'd say we've earned a little reward," Dean said with a smirk as he took a long drink of the bottle before passing it back to her.
The night evolved from there. Dean should have seen it coming. But as the bottle passed back and forth, and the warmth of tipsy intoxication clouded his mind, he wasn't sure who made the first move, or whether they did in unison but somewhere between the fourth or fifth shot, the bottle was on the table, and she was in his arms, their lips locked in sultry passion as they both stripped off articles of clothing with frantic urgency.
The heat intensified as he found himself laying in bed with Jo on top of him, sensually moving her hips against his, her caresses and kisses up and down his body and the moisture glistening on both of their bodies driving him into a frenzy of passion.
The passionate moans and gasps intensified as he rolled onto her, grinding into her with lustful fervor, her hands raking down his bare back as he kissed her neck. She arched her neck into his kisses, burying her head into the pillow, her heart pounding against him.
Many pleasurable moments later, Dean lay in bed with Jo tucked into his arms, her head laying against his shoulders as they both listened to each other's pounding hearts.
"Now those are some skills you don't just inherit," Dean murmured as he soothingly rubbed a hand on her bare back.
"Well I learned a few things," she said with a grin.
"And I'm pretty sure I told you I wasn't going to be so easy," Dean teased. "Do I look like a quick piece of meat to you?"
"Shut up," she responded. "Don't pretend like my alluringly sexy advances didn't seduce you; you lose strumpet."
Dean smirked as he held her, letting her drift off to sleep in his arms before doing so himself.