Title: Under the Influence of Djinn
Chapter: Ten
Summary: AU: The Djinn siblings created a terrible detailed nightmare for Dean out of revenge, nearly killing him, Lisa, and Ben. With Sam alive, Castiel missing, and Campbell cousins in tow, he tries to pull himself back together.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Supernatural was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect in intended with this work of fan fiction.

In search of a place to think, Dean headed outside only to find that Gwen was sitting by herself. He could hear her sniffles and was just about to turn around and go back in when he heard her soft, "Dean? Could I ask you something?"

He approached her, sliding his hands into his jeans pockets. "Sure."

"Do you think it's stupid going after this demon?"

She looked tired and sad in the low light. Whatever talk she and Bobby had had in the car earlier hadn't helped her mood any. "No, I think it's human. Something kills the ones we love, we want it dead. Makes perfect sense to me."

"Bobby said you and Sam know where this quest leads."

"Sam didn't tell you?" At her negative nod, he joined her, sitting beside her. "When I was four, Sam about six months, a demon burned our mom to death on a ceiling. Our dad, he became a hunter after that, devoted his life to tracking down the son of a bitch."

"Did he?"

Ducking his head, he nodded. "Yeah. We found him. Killed him."

"You succeeded."

"Sure, but there was a price. Always is. That's one thing you can count on. You'll always have a price to pay. That hunt consumed our childhoods, our relationship with our dad, and with everyone around us."

"Sam and Bobby think I should let it go, leave it alone."

"What do you think?"

"I think I want it dead. If your dad can find that demon -"

He held up a hand. "Hold on. Our demon was…different. You know Sam and I are archangel vessels? Well, Yellow-eyes, Azazel, was a servant of Lucifer. He came to manipulate Sam, get him ready for that and he had some other agenda, too." Sometimes Dean wondered about the Psy-kids and how that had connected if Sam was Lucifer's only true vessel. Were they like the poor guy who'd been Lucifer's vessel before Sam, off-shoots of their line a ways back? Who knew. Azazel had been sadistic. "Anyway, what he did was distinctive. We were able to find a trail. Wasn't easy. Took forever to learn his name. Ours was a special case, a specific attack for a specific reason."

She looked down at her clasped hands. "And mine is just an ordinary old demon."

"Maybe it recognized you as a former hunter and decided to play. It happens. Was there anything strange about the murders?"

"No. Nothing. Blood everywhere. Pieces…." A shudder wracked her shoulders.

"Think. Anything that didn't fit? Did he say anything, do anything, however small, that you might be able to compare to other murders?"

"I don't think so."

He thought a moment about things that could help her. "What about strange weather? It can be a sign. Go back over reports for that entire week before, two weeks even. Look for anything and everything that's off the slightest bit."

"No strange weather."

"Keep thinking. If you find something, then there's your first clue and you may be able to track it."

"There's nothing. I've been over it again and again."

If that was true, and she had nothing at all, then he hated to tell her the same thing Sam and Bobby had. However, nothing was nothing. Couldn't hunt a demon when there was nothing to identify it. "Then maybe Sam and Bobby are right. It sucks, I know. Not being able to kill it, make it feel as much pain as you are, bites the big one."

"I want revenge, Dean. I want it yesterday." Her voice broke on the words.

"I get that." He took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck with a hand as he leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees. "Making your life all about revenge…. Man, Sam and I, we've been there. More than once. That life…it's selfish when you get right down to it."

"Selfish?"

She sounded like she didn't believe him. How did he get this through to her and make her understand? "It eats you alive, inside out. The more you search, the more desperate you get, and the longer it takes, the more you're eaten up. A circle. And eventually…. Eventually it makes you willing to sacrifice things you'd never have considered sacrificing before." He studied her, noted the slight vulnerable air about her. This was hurting her and it had to be done. "Now, I don't think you're selfish, Gwen. Not under it all. I don't think you have it in you and that," he pointed a finger at her, "that's a good thing. I think it's still early enough that you can walk away with your soul untainted, but you have to do it now before that want for revenge gets hooks deep in you and becomes a need. You don't want to go where that road will take you. Trust me. Just once, I'd like someone to learn from our lives and our mistakes."

"Dean." She rolled her eyes.

"I mean it. You said you want to learn from me? Then learn this. You don't want this road. Is it worth dying for? Is getting that demon going to be worth everything? Would all those people want you to die over their corpses or would they want you to let it go and live?"

"The latter, of course."

"Then what are you doing out here?"

"This is where I belong."

"Is it? How sure are you?"

"Very."

The determination was still in her eyes and he sighed. "Make sure you understand the consequences before you keep looking for it."

"Fine. I'll think about it." Her tone was exasperated and he decided to push her a little more on it.

"I'll bet thinking is all you've done, too. Every minute of every day backed with mental planning, going over every detail until it never fades. It's all still fresh. You see the blood like it's right there with you. Here's the harsh truth and nothing but. You listening?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"The road to revenge will destroy you, the end. It'll take every last thing you love and care about from you. It'll twist you around, chew you up, and spit you out. You'll look in the mirror and you won't like who you see and you don't want that."

"Your dad -"

"Died. He's dead and you need to decide if you want to be able to look at yourself in the mirror the day after you kill that demon. If you can live with hating yourself for the rest of your days, well then, you just go on with your hunt. But if there's any doubt? End your search now."

She unclasped her hands, let them hang and stared down at them. "Giving up…it's quitting. It took everything."

Did she not see what was right in front of her? She had a lot more than she thought. Christian had given her the solid foundation she'd needed immediately after. Mark had been someone else to take care of and so, honestly, had Sam. They'd been there for her and now he was there, giving her the best advice he could give in regards to her circumstances.

Slowly, he leaned over and bumped her shoulder with his. "Not everything." When she looked up at him, he added, "You've got Christian and Mark. Sam." He bumped her shoulder again. "You even got me and I bet if you turn on the charm, Bobby'll warm up to you. He's not immune to a pretty face. Point is, you still have us."

"You accepting me as family, Dean?"

"I think I'll claim you. Jury's still out on the other two."

That got a small smile from her. "They're not bad guys."

"We'll see. So… What's say we hit happy hour and watch Mark work?"

"I'd like that."

As they went into the house, he realized he was telling the truth. He wanted to claim her as family.

When Castiel woke a few hours later, his head no longer hurt and he was genuinely refreshed from the drugged nap. He sat up. Laid out on the bed beside him were folded clothes and toiletries.

Jo wasn't in the room, so he got up to look at what she'd bought for him. There were two pairs of jeans, a heavy sweatshirt, a button-down in blue and dark purple stripes, pajamas, and a few t-shirts in solid colors. Most of the clothes appeared to have been previously owned, having a slight faded appearance. She'd bought socks and underwear in packages and there was a pair of running shoes on the floor. There was also a duffel bag like Sam and Dean carried, an electric razor still in the box, and the toiletries that were all lined up side by side.

Reaching out, he picked up the aftershave, opened it, and sniffed at it. He decided he liked the scent and smelled the rest of the items. He didn't care for the shampoo, but the soap was okay.

The door opened, Jo coming in, a take-out bag and drink container in her hands. She juggled the drink container and kicked the door shut with a foot. "Good. You're awake. How are you feeling?"

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hands on his knees. "Better, thank you. My head no longer hurts."

"Excellent." Setting the bag and container down on the table, she took her jacket off and sat down. "Come and get it. I got sandwiches and chips. Wasn't sure if you liked soda, so I got you a root beer to try."

"I like beer."

"Totally different thing. This is soda, not alcohol." Jo opened a paper wrapper and laid out a sandwich for him, then opened one bag of chips. "Regular chips for you, barbeque for me. You can try mine if you want."

Castiel joined her at the table and tried a sip of the root beer. It was sweet and good. "Did you look at our phones yet?"

"Um…no. I was busy."

Wasn't she curious? He was. If the information was there, they could go right away. It'd be a relief to find Dean without weeks or months of searching. "I'm going to look at mine."

"Go ahead." Her tone was nonchalant and she reached in her bag of chips, taking out a handful and setting a couple on his sandwich wrapper.

She made no move to retrieve hers from her jacket and he sighed with impatience. "Jo."

"What?"

"You said we'd look at our phones back in the room. We're here."

He could see the reluctance as she took her phone from one pocket of her jacket. "Okay, okay. Don't nag. You go first."

Hope rose as he checked through the phone. While he'd never had much data on it, Dean had occasionally added things for him, as had Sam and, once, Bobby. Disappointment quickly crushed that hope. The phone numbers were all ones and last names were gone. Swallowing hard, he tried to access his voicemail and found it inaccessible. All he heard was an error message.

Castiel slowly set the phone down. "Nothing useful."

Her expression changed, sadness in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Castiel." She looked at her phone a long time, frowning as she worked. At one point, she put it to her ear like he had and he heard her sniff sharply when she brought it back down. "Me either. Plenty of first names, no last names, business names are gone, all phone numbers are ones, and a chunk of things are missing. I can't access my voicemail either. Now, with the amount of data the guy transferred, there should be more here, at least on my phone, which makes me think our minds have been altered to not be able to see the information. Can angels do that?"

"With ease."

"Which means they don't want us finding Dean or anyone else who can help us." She was nonchalant again, laying the phone down and reaching for her own soda to take a drink. "Eat up."

"Aren't you disappointed?" He wanted to punch the wall in frustration while she simply shrugged it off.

"Of course I am, but when it was obvious our minds were tampered with, I assumed whoever did it wouldn't miss the data on the phones. It was a wild shot. I never really thought we'd find anything we could use. "

"Oh."

She crossed her arms on the edge of the table. "Look, we need to take a couple days to get our bearings. We need to make plans and we can't go off half-cocked. We have to get to know each other, okay?"

"Yes." He agreed with that assessment.

"So let's eat our dinner, talk a little, watch some TV, and get some sleep."

The rest of the evening went well he thought, but when they went to bed (him on top of the covers and Jo under them), he couldn't sleep. Castiel laid there in the dark, listening to the sound of cars outside and finally, removed the eye mask. "Jo," he whispered. "Are you asleep?"

There was no answer.

He turned over and asked a little louder. "Jo? Are you asleep?"

She frowned and shifted position.

"Jo?"

It took ten minutes of asking if she was asleep before she sighed, removed her own eye mask and snapped, "What do you want?"

"I'm unable to sleep. I close my eyes and I begin to think of such things as the proper way to shave and if the growling in my stomach means I'm thirsty or hungry or something else. I was even wondering if the main character in that program we watched will find justice. Will he find justice? To be denied it after his search -"

"Castiel…." Her groan was annoyed.

"Yes, Jo?"

She rolled over to face him. "If you're that concerned over the storyline, we can look it up tomorrow. As for the growling, drink some water first. If it's still growling, eat a snack. Trust me, you'll know if it's neither of those things. How old is your vessel?"

"Thirties."

"Then it's probably the caffeine in the migraine pills keeping you awake. Sometimes caffeine in the afternoon or evening can keep you awake. You might be sensitive to it. It's either that or the nap from the pills. Don't worry about it. If you really can't sleep at all, then get up and watch TV or read a book until you're tired." Sitting up, she snapped on the light and reached for the plastic case that held earplugs. "I'm not staying up with you, so don't ask. Go to sleep when you're tired and don't wake me up again."

He nodded. "May I wake you if there is a fire?"

"Of course."

"A tornado?"

"Yes."

"An earthquake?"

"In West Virginia? Um, yeah…."

Castiel half turned away. "Flooding?"

"In the immediate area and only if it's threatening the motel."

"I may wake you for natural disasters?"

"Yes."

He didn't resist the urge to tease her a bit more on the subject. "What about matters of personal safety? If a person attempts to break in to our room?"

"Uh-huh. That's acceptable."

"What if a demon bursts in? Or some other creature? Must I deal with it alone or may I wake you then for…back-up?"

She blinked, appeared to realize he was teasing her, then snorted and shook a finger at him good-naturedly. "You're ornery, that's what you are. Use common sense, Castiel. Let me sleep unless it's an emergency."

Soon she was back asleep and he was, for all intents and purposes, alone. Castiel turned on the TV and found a familiar program on one channel. He'd watch Dr. Sexy, M.D. for awhile. Maybe, somewhere, Dean was watching it, too.

After a rocky start and that weird bout of teasing from Castiel (he'd had a twinkle in his eyes and everything), Jo had managed to get a good night of sleep, which would help with everything she needed to get done. She kept her eyes closed as she took off the sleep mask and stretched, mentally running through her list for the day. When she had a plan cemented, she opened her eyes and immediately screamed to find Castiel's face inches from hers. He was sitting on the floor staring at her.

"What are you doing," she gasped, clutching the covers to her.

"Waiting for you to wake," he replied.

"Uh-huh. 'Cause sitting staring at a person inches from them while they sleep isn't creepy at all."

He cocked his head. "I've showered, shaved, and made coffee. I'm ready for the day. Shall I pour you coffee now?"

Jo groped for the alarm clock and looked at it. "It's barely seven."

"I'm no longer tired. You told me to go to sleep when I was tired. I did and woke after a few hours."

Great, she thought. How could he not be a morning person? "New rule: you don't ever sit close like that and watch me sleep again. I mean it. Never ever."

He blinked twice. "Dean said that as well a couple times."

"And it didn't occur to you not to do that to me?"

A frown creased his brow. "I thought personal space rules were different between men and women?"

"They are, but…. We'll talk about that later."

"Jo, I am sorry if I've made you uncomfortable." He got up and moved to a chair. "Is this better?"

"You know what? Amendment to the rule: don't watch me sleep at all."

"Oh. I apologize."

Tossing the covers aside, she got out of bed. "I'm going to shower. You just…stay out here."

Going into the bathroom, she found a mess. He may have showered and shaved, but he'd managed to make the bathroom look like a tornado had hit. There were hairs in the sink from when he'd shaved, toothpaste smeared on the counter, and a puddle of mouthwash around the mouthwash bottle. The only towel left that wasn't soaked was a small one barely bigger than the washcloth. The rest were tossed everywhere and the shower curtain wasn't tucked in to the bath. The bathmat was sopping wet. Jo pinched the bridge of her nose and realized she needed to cover both cleaning up after himself and common courtesy when sharing a motel room as soon as possible.

Funny, she would have thought Dean had discussed at least the sharing a motel room thing with him. Or Sam had discussed it.

Over breakfast later, she went over those along with a few other things, to which he slumped back in the booth and said, "Humanity is complicated. There are rules for everything."

"You said Dean and Sam taught you some things."

"Obviously not enough. I'm unprepared for living a human life, Jo. I can't do things like cook or -"

"You can't?"

"No. They never taught me. I can, of course, order a meal and buy prepared items from a store. Sam took me through a salad bar once and I've had lessons on eating, some money matters, and personal space."

"Not enough on the personal space," she muttered, then raised her voice back to conversational levels. "Cooking is following directions. Look, the important things are good hygiene, common courtesies, dressing appropriately, and not pissing off guys bigger than you unless you're certain you can kick their ass."

"When put like that, it sounds rather like being an angel apart from the hygiene matter. Don't step on toes in other departments or your own, make sure your vessel is dressed well, and don't make an enemy of an archangel."

"You're part of the way there already." She smiled at how he'd related humanity and being an angel. If he could keep doing that, it'd be easier for him.

"Your attempt to lighten the realization of the fullness of my inadequacies is appreciated."

"You're welcome. Relax. I want you to watch TV some more today while I run some errands. You have my number. We've got text on these phones, so text me whenever you have a question."

She saw him back to the room, made sure he understood how to text, and headed out on her errands, trying to ignore the angel tailing her. She wasn't even being subtle, but Jo gritted her teeth and ignored her. With any luck, the preparations she was making would work and she and Castiel would have some breathing room soon.