Title: Under the Influence of Djinn
Chapter: Eighteen
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.
After a late bedtime, Dean dreamed of Ellen Harvelle.
He was at the Roadhouse, which was surprisingly empty for the hour, a beer in front of him, and Ellen chatting. She had her arms crossed and was leaning against the bar in front of him, more relaxed and happy than he'd ever seen her. There were no lines of strain or worry on her face.
"It's been a long time," she said, looking him over. "You look good, Dean."
"It has. I miss you, Ellen."
"I know. It'll fade eventually."
"I don't want it to."
"It has to. You gotta make room for others in your heart."
While that made sense, he still didn't want to let her go.
"Look, I don't blame you. I made my decision to stay with her all on my own. Not your doin'." Reaching down, she brought up a bowl of pretzels. "Here. I know you like these."
"Thanks." He took a few.
"It's how this goes. We all know it eventually and we all hope we're the exceptions."
"Sure. Yeah." What was she talking about? Exceptions?
"Focus here. You need to hear me."
"Yes ma'am. I do hear you. Loud and clear."
A small smile turned her lips. "Then why are you looking so confused?"
Dean looked down at the bar and laughed softly. "You got me." Glancing back up, he saw the amusement slip away from her eyes.
"I still got it. Imagine that. Well, listen up, kid. I don't have a lot of time here. Too much to say and not enough time to get it out. This here is a one-time pass."
"Ellen?"
"You're a lifer, sweetie. Sam, too. Stop trying to deny it. It's in your blood, just like it's in hers, though I tried to deny it for the longest time. I thought if I willed it hard enough she wouldn't have it in her, but Bill was a hunter from a long line of them. Things get clearer though the lens."
Frowning, he took a long drink. Through the lens? He wanted to ask, but she leaned forward, dark eyes meeting his and he couldn't voice the words.
"You can deny it, push it away, and pretend, but it'll always find you again. You've got the family there that proves it over and over. Even the doctor. You need to accept it."
She was talking about Gwen, Mark, and Christian. Ellen wouldn't know about them. She'd never met them.
"I see more here than I ever did. Now, I need a favor from you."
"Ask it."
"She's in pain. I know it and I can't help her from here. She's lost and it breaks my heart because my baby girl has never been lost. She's always had a focus. Jo wanted to hunt like her daddy and now she's drifting."
Her hand touched his arm. It was ice cold, so cold that he gasped. To his right came a tapping noise, over and over.
Ellen's hand squeezed. "Find her a purpose. Make her see where she belongs and it ain't in the grave. Not anymore. Paths change and we both know it. Your has changed more times than I've got fingers to count. Hers has changed and that archangel meant it for bad, I know he did, but you make her make it for good." Her lower lip trembled and for a second, he thought she might begin to cry. "Make her live her life, Dean. Promise me you'll take care of her. I may be up here, but she's still all I got."
"I will. You know I will."
The tapping noise grew louder and more insistent.
Ellen released his arm and touched his cheek. "Thank you. Now," she drew back, fading until she was washed out, like an image on an old tv, "I think you'd better get that."
He came awake with a sharp breath, sitting up and looking around. The room was icy, freezing. He could see his breaths. In the bed across from him, Sam was hunched into a ball and shivering.
The sound in his dream was a knocking at the door.
Dean got up, staggered to the door, and looked in the peephole. Seeing Castiel there, he opened the door wide. The air outside was far warmer than inside.
The ghost of Ellen Harvelle had come down from heaven to see him and gone into his dreams like the angels could. Should he be alarmed by that?
"It's three in the morning, Cas." The Satanic witching hour according to some sources. "I've had maybe two hours of sleep."
Castiel peered into the room with a frown, gaze moving all around. For a second, Dean thought he'd comment on the cold, but he didn't. "I've already had my needed three hours."
"Three?"
"Sometimes two, but usually three. My body has adjusted to it and I find it runs at optimum with three. Jo is quite jealous. She needs a solid six to seven or she's a bit on the grouchy side."
"Most people need six to nine hours. Freak."
"I spend quite a bit of time reading or watching videos on our computer and it is sort of freakish, isn't it? I'm unique." Castiel smiled at that.
"Uh-huh. You're unique, like the other people who only need three hours. Speaking of hours…. What are you doing here at this hour?" Dean smothered a yawn.
"We need to have that talk and without Jo knowing we're talking. She can't know I've come to you about this."
He glanced back at Sam. He'd stopped shivering and was still asleep. "Give me a minute."
Seated in the same all-night restaurant he'd gone to with Jo, he watched Castiel devour a cheeseburger with all the trimmings and a large milkshake and hoped he had a super metabolism to go with those advanced self-healing powers Jo had mentioned earlier. If he didn't, Castiel was going to start gaining weight. "You wanted to talk, so talk. I could still be in bed asleep."
"Somehow, I think the ghost that visited you interrupted your sleep long before I did." He slid his plate aside.
"You did notice."
"I do have some quirks. I notice things like that, see some things. It's a selective matter and not consistent, though it shows signs of becoming consistent on the matter of ghosts and spirits."
Dean couldn't resist what he thought was the obvious remark. "You see dead people."
His head dipped in a slow nod as one brow raised. "I even understand that reference now. It was on one night and it's one of Daphne's favorite movies. But it's not a sixth sense I have, Dean. It's more a power in the angelic realm of existence than the one humans have. It's hard to explain and we need to discuss Jo, not me."
"She's a popular subject. First Ellen, now you."
He was quiet for a long moment. "So it was Ellen who came to see you. Interesting. I'm right to be worried about Jo then."
"Why are you worried?"
He dunked his straw into the milkshake several times. "Understand that this isn't easy for me. Talking about Jo is difficult because she's been my rock since I woke. We've been confidantes and I don't wish to break her trust in me, but I have to. It's not a choice I like making. I prefer to keep the secrets people tell me. After careful deliberation, I've determined that I shouldn't be the rock to her that she's been to me. She needs a rock of her own and it should be you."
"Why?"
Now he tapped his fingers on the tabletop. "Jo is a hunter. It's one thing I remember knowing about her instantly when we met at Bobby's. It was one of the things she used to define herself and that marker is gone. I don't know if Raphael did it or if it's solely through her fears…." He sighed. "She died on a job and the pain of her death remains with her, just as the memory of that peace she had in heaven remains. Raphael is a dick. Those heaven memories shouldn't be there. They're supposed to fade for most people. If anything, she should remember a white light, but she has it all in her head and she's pining for it. She says she's tired. Knowing what you've gone through yourself, I thought you would be able to relate to her on many of those points."
Dean thought he understood Jo better now and that fear and uncertainty he'd seen in her eyes a few hours earlier. His decision to help her had to be the right one if both Ellen and Castiel were telling him it was. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you."
"How about we talk about Daphne now?"
Castiel smiled. "I love her." Before that statement could begin to alarm Dean, Castiel continued. "I'm not in love with her, but I love her nonetheless. She's been very important to me these weeks. I've learned so much from her. She anticipates me and cares for me and I don't know what Jo and I would have done without her."
That didn't sound to Dean like there were deep feelings between them. "You said you have feelings for her that can't be denied."
"They can't be denied. They're real."
"Usually a statement like that means you're in love, not just loving a person."
His smile faded. "Oh. Usually Jo corrects me on these things. Or Daphne does."
"How did you meet?" The story wasn't long, but Castiel added plenty of other details leading right up to the present. "She's been like a benefactor then. Giving you money for things, buying you things…. Why can't I find a sugar mama to support me while I hunt?"
"Sugar mama?"
"Never mind. What'd Jo have to say about Daphne?"
"She didn't want to trust her for a long time. Now, she does. I think. Daphne has proven herself several times over."
They talked about Raphael and, though Dean grilled him like he'd planned, there was no new information. What had been said earlier was what had happened. Castiel had been captured by Raphael, the rebellion squashed, and Raphael had decided to make him human after torturing him for months. Crowley wasn't involved and Castiel didn't even know what Crowley was up to. He hadn't heard anything about the war over hell between Crowley and Meg, though he said it didn't surprise him the two were at each other's throats.
Dean sat back in his seat. "How did Raphael make you human?" After what Cas had said earlier about his ghost sense, he was doubting the human label.
"She turned off the tap to my powers. I think, anyway."
"What about your grace?"
"It should still be here, though, to be fair, I don't remember much after her decision. Once I passed out she could have removed it. She had ample time to do whatever she wished with my unconscious form."
"You can't feel it there?"
"No. Not in this state. Can you feel your soul?"
"No. What about your wings? They still there?"
"If I can't feel my grace in this state, what makes you think I can feel my wings? Like the grace, they should still be there, I just can't use them. Although, if I am human, both are gone. I…I don't know. Human perceptions are somewhat limited, Dean. I've told you that before."
"I know you have."
"I can't look in the mirror and see either of those. I can't feel them. I suppose I won't know for sure unless an angel or other creature with abilities tells me."
"Would a demon see any bit of remaining angel in you?"
"Probably, but again, I don't know. It could be that the angelic that remains, if it does, is so small it's on a cellular level that only a very high power being can see, like an archangel or Death."
"This power you have to see the dead -"
"It's more like I see through them down to the energy that makes them up."
"So, does that mean you could still see Reapers?"
"I haven't."
"Are you sure? They can be tricky."
His sigh was annoyed. "I'm not sure of much at all regarding my current existence. I'm doing the best I can with what I have and what is developing. This power, as you call it, could well disappear tomorrow. I'm living my life as a human because I feel human. I feel the emotions, the physical sensations, the up and downs. But if you're asking if I am definitely human…." He shrugged. "I can't answer that."
"Cas, is there anything you like about being human? This time, I mean. Last time sucked for you."
He studied the table top, obviously gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Yes. This…experience has been far different than the last. I can't compare them." Sitting forward, he laced his hands together and looked at Dean. "You once told me about the healing properties of a good meal with friends. I understand that now. I enjoy ice cream and cheeseburgers with a side of onion rings. So many choices of foods to try. I also enjoy showering, spending time with friends, and dreaming. Sleep is indescribable really. My dreams have been good for the most part. The nightmares are few and far between, but when I do have them Jo helps me recover. She holds me until the memory of them fades."
"Not Daphne?"
"Daphne isn't my rock, Dean. Jo is. I told you. She anchors me here."
He found himself a little jealous at the bond Castiel seemed to have developed with Jo. "So she holds you. Okay."
He studied Dean with a small frown. A slow smile formed on his lips. "There's no need to be jealous."
He snorted and glanced away. "I'm not jealous." He totally was. His aftermath of nightmares had been too tense and sometimes violent for anyone to hold him. Lisa had tried once and only once. Dean had apologized to her, but she'd said it was safer if she simply held him later, when he'd calmed down.
"Yes, you are. But like I said, there's no need to be. I'm certain Jo will hold you when you have nightmares if you'd like her to. She'll help you as well."
"Cas."
"She turned me down, Dean. My relationship with her isn't that kind of relationship. It's rather like a feminine take on the bond you and I share. I pulled you from hell and you grounded me in what was right. She has grounded me on earth. It's one coin with two sides, if that makes sense."
It did.
They talked through a different flavor of milkshake on Castiel's part and a plate of onion rings on Dean's. He learned all about Castiel's migraine's and he, in turn, explained about the Djinn and why he'd been weird himself.
Sam shut the door to their motel room behind him. Dean had woken him after he'd gotten back from a late chat with Castiel and they'd discussed what needed to be done. Jo was intent on avoiding hunting in any way, shape, or form, and Dean had an idea how to remedy that wrong. Sam agreed with both Dean and Castiel that it was wrong, too. Jo needed help getting back on the path. "We're all clear. They went to the grocery store. Daphne says it'll be awhile. He always has a lot of questions there and she says he can come up with enough to keep Jo busy for hours."
It had been easy for Sam to gather everyone together for the meeting Dean wanted to have. Jo had missed breakfast and it had been Castiel who'd woken her with his request to 'run some errands' which included the grocery store. Daphne had remained behind, apparently content to catch up on some reading.
"You called a family meeting?" Christian turned a chair around and sat with his arms crossed along the back. He'd taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves.
Dean was cleaning his gun. "I did call a meeting."
Mark set one folder on the table. "Since we already handed out tasks, I bet it's about your friend Jo, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Sam said softly. "It's about Jo."
"Jo Harvelle is someone Sam and I care about. That makes her family and family cares for their own. Do we all agree on that?" Dean carefully began putting the pieces of the gun back together.
Sam watched Gwen, Christian, and Mark all nod. It was one of those talks they'd had recently. They'd hashed out that family wasn't always blood, but those who meant the most.
"She's a little lost right now and I think we can all relate to the feeling."
"Think? I know I can. What do you want us to do," Gwen asked. She looked more like a young professional in her suit than a hunter.
"We need to help her remember what she loved about this job." Sam moved to stand beside Dean, giving them a visual reminder that he and Dean were united on this. "She loved helping people and knowing she was doing that. Jo wanted in because it was what her dad did and -"
" - it made her feel close to him. She needs good hunters willing to help her back in and have her back to get her over that hump. She needs friends."
Mark nodded. "We can do that, but I don't know her. We," he gestured between himself, Christian, and Gwen, "don't know her. It's not us she'll trust to have her back. To be honest, I think it's the two of you and Castiel she needs. People she knows already."
"Mark's right and…" Christian sighed. "….not to bring your plan down, Dean, but if she knows you as well as you both think, won't she wonder why she should go all in if you won't?"
Sam glanced down at Dean. He had to know the cousins had noticed how reluctant he'd been to hunt with all his heart.
Gun put back together, Dean sat back. He looked at all of them, even Sam. "I know. She'll wonder and she's not stupid. I know I haven't been here when I've been here, but it's not instantaneous. Jo -"
"Will understand they're in the same place right now," Sam finished for him. "Like Dean said, she's not stupid. He's told her what happened. She can fill in the blanks easily enough and Jo gets us. She understands us." Dean anyway. Always had.
It was Christian's turn to nod. "Okay. Dean takes lead, Sam, you and Castiel follow, and the rest of us, we'll do what we can. She can room with Gwen and Gwennie here has enough blood thirst these days to encourage the murderous tendencies in anyone."
"Hey, I said I was sorry," Gwen snapped. "Maybe you should get out of my way next time."
Christian had gotten shot with salt rounds when he hadn't stepped back the second Gwen had seen one ghost on their last job. She'd claimed she wasn't aiming for him, but had hit him like she had been aiming for him. Sam suspected she'd just gotten tired of his attitude because he'd been one moody SOB that entire job. Come to find out, it had fallen right in the middle of his wife's birthday. He'd had her on his mind the entire time.
"Okay, here's what we'll do today." Dean laid out his plan and when they'd all gone about their jobs except Sam, Dean opened the file Mark had left and looked up at him. "You think this'll work?"
"Maybe. She was determined before she died. I think it'll come back. Like you said, it takes time."
He left Dean to get the room ready and headed out to the grocery store to 'rescue' Jo from Castiel.