The past couple of chapters have been rather intense. Consider this a small breathing space before the resolution.
Thanks guys for your support and the wonderful reviews! And happy Thanksgiving to everyone!
Jackie stared at her pizza, her appetite nonexistent - and even if the meal on her plate did in fact look rather unappealing, it wasn't the reason for the nauseous feeling in her gut.
In her ears, Sam's cry of pain was playing on a nonstop loop, and it took all her willpower not to start crying again, not to start screaming her lungs out in the middle of this lousy diner and throw the damn pizza to the nearest wall.
"Just eat it," Joe said, giving her a stern glance. She seemed to have no problem shoveling down her own pizza, which was already half gone.
"I'm not hungry."
"Jesus, Jackie." Joe rolled her eyes. "This has nothing to do with hunger. If you don't eat, you're not gonna get through this day. How are you gonna fight with an empty stomach?"
Jackie sucked up the witty response that was already on the tip of her tongue because Joe was right. Of course, she was right.
In silence she cut a small slice of her pizza and started nibbling it, ignoring her nausea. The food sucked. It was by far the worst pizza she had eaten in decades - possibly ever, but she decided not to comment on that either.
Joe observed as Jackie slowly made her way through the slice, and waited until she had finished the second one, before speaking up.
"So, care to tell me why your psycho ex said you'd know where to find him?"
"How the Hell should I know? Because he wanted to give me the headache of the century?" Jackie snapped and immediately felt bad for it.
This wasn't Joe's fault. None of it was.
"Sorry," she muttered and took another bite of the horrible pizza. "Just… tell me, why are we eating here, of all places?"
Joe arched her brows, looking genuinely surprised. "What's wrong with this place?"
"What's not wrong with this place?" Jackie replied. "The food is disgusting, that guy with horrible acne is staring at my boobs and I saw a dead mouse on the bathroom floor. To begin with."
"A mouse on the floor isn't gonna kill you," Joe said with a shrug and finished her food.
"No, but this pizza might," Jackie replied, forcing another mouthful down.
"Don't be such a snob. I had to stop by my home to change clothes, and this place was close. I always eat here." Joe stated, but let out a resigned sigh. She turned her eyes to the waiter with bad acne, an orange apron, and incredibly ginger hair, and hollered out:
"Yo, Ernie! Stop staring at my sister's chest and bring us some coffee."
The boy's cheeks turned crimson. "Sure, I mean - I'm sorry Doctor Herriot. Sure thing."
Joe gave him a wide and gracious smile. "And a couple of whiskeys, too."
Jackie raised a brow. "Doctor Herriot? Seriously?"
Joe shrugged. "And? I find that alias rather fitting."
Jackie didn't reply anything to that, just forced herself to finish her third slice of the hard yet surprisingly greasy pizza and while munching it, pondered on their situation, rubbing her feet together under the table to create warmth. It was early June, but the weather in this small town in Alaska was still cold, and Jackie was only wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie, and a wool scarf Joe had loaned her.
The scarf was no doubt self-made, and probably from the wool of some thankful lamb whom Joe had rescued from a certain and painful death, using her magnificent grace.
Which made Jackie think about Sam again, and her throat tightened. If only they found him in time, Joe could heal him with her grace too. Wounds would not be a problem - as far as he wasn't turned.
But if Raphael did what he had threatened to do, even grace could not save Sam.
Jackie pushed her plate away and tried to wash away the lingering taste of anchovy, oregano, and self-loath with lukewarm water, pulled a map off her backpack, and spread it on the table.
"You gonna finish that?" Joe asked, pointing at her leftover pizza, and as Jackie shook her head, she snatched a slice from her plate.
"It must be a church," Jackie muttered, her finger following the streets of the town she had begun to call home this past month and a half.
"A church?" Joe asked, and leaned closer. "What makes you think that?"
"Well, at first I thought it was a warehouse…" Jackie replied. "Because of the way his footsteps echoed in that space. But then I began to think-"
"That weirdo has a thing for churches?"
"You could say so," Jackie admitted. "He used to love going to them - to mock or to pray, I still don't know. His family had been religious. He was named after an archangel and all. I think he missed it, missed believing in God."
"Wow. It doesn't sound like he's sick in the head at all." Joe said graciously, and Jackie made a face.
She watched as the lanky teenager Ernie approached the table with a tray that held two large cups of steaming coffee, and a bottle of whiskey with two glasses. He just couldn't keep his eyes in Jackie's face while he did it, his glance kept dipping down to her chest. On any other day, she would've found it amusing, but not today. She gave the boy a murderous glance, which made his face turn even redder. With surprising swiftness and efficiency, he placed the items on the table and backed off as fast as he could.
"Stop that death glare," Joe noted and poured a generous amount of whiskey into their coffees. "He's a good kid."
"He is a pervert." Jackie snapped with another narrow-eyed glare towards the said pervert.
"So are you," Joe said. "Milk and sugar?"
Jackie gave a sharp nod and accepted the cup that Joe was offering her. A sip of the hot beverage immediately made her feel better, the whiskey warmed her all the way to her half-frozen toes.
"Wow, the coffee isn't bad," she noted, surprised.
"Told you this place is fine."
"It's not fine, Joe. This is basically Mordor. But the coffee is decent, I'll manage." she turned her attention back to the map. "Why are there so many churches in every fricking town?"
"Because people still love their opium?" Joe replied.
"Oh, shut up you Marxist. And how is it even possible for you to not be a believer? Your veins are full of angelic grace, for heaven's sake."
"I don't see what that has got to do with believing in God," Joe said and took a sip of her coffee. "Anyways, are we going to have a theological discussion or are we going to forge a plan to save Sam and Dean?"
"The latter," Jackie replied with a frown.
It had to be a church, but which one? There were so many, even in this small town - churches for every different branch of Christianity. Maybe Joe was right about the opium, Jackie thought. She was pretty sure none of the people who went to any of these churches got answers to their prayers. The angels - arrogant dicks. That's what they were, Cas included. Jackie knew better than even trying to pray for Castiel, to ask him to save the boys.
It would've been like talking to a brick wall.
She would have to do this herself, together with Joe. There was no heavenly power getting their backs. There never had been.
"Shit." Jackie let out a surprised gasp, as her eyes stopped at a name on the map. "Fuck, Joe - it has to be this one!"
"Oh?" Joe placed her coffee on the table. "What makes you think so?"
"Because it's called St. Raphael's Church," Jackie replied, pointing to a church that was on the outer banks of the town. "Yes. He is that vain."
"Huh," Joe said with raised brows and opened her laptop. "Let's see what we can find out about that church."
Jackie moved to sit by Joe's side, and they spent some time buried in research, sipping their coffee. At some point, Ernie refilled their cups and brought them chocolate chip cookies that were also surprisingly okay - Jackie suspected they weren't baked here. She pointedly ignored Ernie's attempts to make eye contact with her and kept staring at the bluish laptop screen instead. The things you could find on the internet - she still wasn't quite used to it! With ease Joe had dug out the blueprints of that old church, pictures from the inside, the view from outside - and it made this all feel somehow more real.
It made her feel like maybe they could save Sam and Dean after all.
"Fine," she said after half an hour or so when they had finished their third coffees. "We have the place, now we need a plan. Any bright ideas on how to kill Raphael and his gang?"
"Some," Joe replied, turning her grey eyes to Jackie. "Let's get going. We're going to need some things to pull this through."
"Yeah? Like what?"
"A fake diamond to start with," Joe said, closed her laptop, and shoved it into her backpack. "Don't worry, it doesn't have to fool him for long - it just needs to be a distraction. And then you're going to need a killer dress. Preferably red."
"Also for distraction?" Jackie asked and stood up. "I can see where you're going with this. And if I can see that, so can he. It's not going to be enough to fool him."
Joe grinned, showing all her sharp, white teeth.
"Then we add layers. A good plan is like onion, Jackie. It always has more layers."
"Onion? Seriously?" Jackie didn't know if she should cry or laugh, but there was something about Joe's optimism that gave her a slight ray of hope. She loved Joe for her attitude - how she always got shit done. If Joe decided to do something, she did it - end of the story. And if she said they could save Sam and Dean, Jackie believed her.
Even with this onion of a plan, that had so many holes in it that it was more likely a swiss cheese.
Jackie gave a sigh and gathered her things. She had a good idea where to get a fake diamond - in Paris. But it sucked big time because they had already teleported to Alaska and they were going to need to save some mojo for tonight, but it couldn't be helped. She thought about Sam's agonized cries of pain, his blood on Raphael's lips, and her gut turned into a tight knot. They had a timeline, and she would have to go through routes she knew. No time for improvising.
"I'm gonna go and get us the diamond," she said to Joe. "Meet me at my place in a couple of hours?"
"Sure thing," Joe said, and by the look on her face, she could tell that Joe was already planning something, filling the holes in the cheese. She pulled her black hair behind her ears and gave Jackie a reassuring smile.
"We're gonna get Sam back," she said. "I promise. But you need to keep your shit together, Jackie. You can't afford to mess up this time, you know. Can you do that?"
Jackie tilted up her chin. "Watch me."
"Goodie," Joe replied, with a crooked smile. "You're gonna owe me big time when this is done, though. I'm missing a full day of work because of you. I had to cancel the check-up of Pete's dog."
With that, she slid off the booth, slung her backpack on her shoulder, and walked to the counter. Ernie, whose ginger hair made a horrible contrast with his orange apron, quickly stuffed his phone into his pocket and stood up. He managed to catch the set of keys that Joe threw at him in mid-air.
"Ernie, be a good boy and walk my dog tonight, will ya?" Joe asked. "And feed him too. I'm gonna be late."
Ernie's spine straightened visibly, and he flashed a smile.
"Sure thing, doc!" he replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket. "Where are you going?"
"To add some layers into an onion," Joe replied and grinned at Ernie's baffled expression. "Don't let Bones bite you."
Jackie could feel Ernie's eyes on her backside as they stepped out of the lousy diner, onto a street where the ice-cold wind instantly hit them, making Jackie shiver in her too thin hoodie. She wrapped the wool scarf tighter around her shoulders and gave Joe an incredulous glance.
"You named your dog Bones?"
"So?" Joe asked, raising her brows. "It's a Star Trek reference."
"And? That's supposed to make it better?"
Joe seemed genuinely shocked. "Hey - Star Trek happens to be great-!"
"Right. And if we happen to make it through this day alive, I'm so getting you a date. A real date, with a real man. Capiche?"
Joe rolled her eyes and started walking. "You owe me, sister. And you're paying me back by watching Trek with me. A full-on Trek marathon!"
Jackie gave a desperate groan, glanced around to make sure no one was watching - and disappeared into the thin air.
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