Okay so... Violence... Just good ole fashion violence and a little bit of sadness... I would say enjoy but... Dude, this is not something you enjoy unless you're a psychopath.. *Shifty eyes* You're not are you? Also... There's a part in the middle... I was in maths, sitting on the floor cause someone stole my desk and I was bored.. Just um.. Ignore it..

Lifting his hand, Dean started to summon the First Blade. His left arm he kept cradled to his side and suddenly Jo remembered the pentagram-bullet in his shoulder. There was no way he could be moving around with that but even as she thought it, Jo could see the fire-like light in the wound; he was burning the bullet and erasing the sigil.

Spinning around, she grabbed her handgun off the table and swung back only to get Dean's fist to her cheek. The First Blade came flying into the room from the Impala, Jo dimly aware that she'd heard something break; probably the Impala and Dean wasn't going to be happy about that. Suddenly Jo felt that Sam leaving the Impala behind wasn't such a good idea. He'd claimed it was in case Jo needed it but now it just added another problem to her list.

The blade flew into Dean's hand and molded to him as if it had been made specifically for the demon.

Jo hit the table, hard, and she skidded across the top of it, landing on the other side. Dean advanced around the table and in his time of taking, Jo got to her feet and ran. Her soles hit the floorboards hard and when she looked back, Dean wasn't there.

A man; he had spiky brown hair and a brown trench coat. He ran towards her and before Joanna could protest, he grabbed her hand and whispered, "Run."

The stranger pulled her along through the church and then Jo pulled back, halting their progress. "Who are you?" She demanded and the man froze, looking around. Then he turned back to her with an apologetic grin.

"So sorry, wrong dimension," He let go of Jo's hand and started to back away, appraising her. "You'll win you know," He called softly.

Jo raised an eyebrow and scoffed, "Really?" She couldn't help the incredulous hope in her voice and the man stopped his retreat. He tilted his head and seemed to be thinking about her question.

"Well," He drew out the word before continuing, "50/50 chance." A redheaded woman ran around the corner and grabbed the man's hand. "Oi! Let's go Spaceman!" She shouted exuberantly and the pair took off.

With a shake of her head, Jo suddenly paused as she heard the tell-tale pattern of Dean's gait, walking her way.

Looking around frantically, Jo went to the only place that she could think of and hid inside the confessions booth. The gun was still in her hand and apart from the tiny bottle of holy water in her pocket, it was the only weapon she possessed; her knife was still on the table.

"Joanna!" That sing-song voice again and if Jo wasn't so keen on making no sound, she would have cursed and sighed. "Come on! You've got a date with Hell!" His voice was rough and Jo held her breath in a desperate bid when his footsteps paused outside of the confessions booth.

Her eyes pressed tightly shut and she bit her lower lip to keep in any breath of noise. The footsteps slowly started to walk away and Jo took in a breath without opening her eyes. That tiny noise of skin upon her lips parting and the rush of air caught someone's attention.

The wall ruptured beside Joanna's face as Dean's fist punched through the wood. She let out a scream and pushed the door open, whirring around, gun out. Dean retracted his hand and turned to her, grinning savagely like a madman. He advanced and swung the blade, Jo dodging back and the ragged edge caught her hair.

A lock of golden light flew into the air and without knowing why, Dean watched it float to the floor.

Jo took a step forward, lowering her gun down and rearing up her other hand, knuckles smashing a bruise across Dean's delicate features. He fell back against the booth and then pushed away, his fist connecting with Jo's stomach. As she keeled, Dean grabbed that golden hair and brought Jo's face to meet his knee. Stumbling back with a gasp, Jo raised a hand and felt the blood trickling from her temple. Dean went to kick her hip but Jo pushed his foot to the side and used the momentum to get in close; her back to his chest.

Jo shot her elbow back, straight to Dean's lower sternum. This was his turn to bend at the waist and Jo used that to slam her head back into his nose. He managed to turn just in time and took the blow to his cheek bone instead.

Dean put his hand to Jo's shoulder bone and shoved her away, for some reason refraining from putting said shoulder bone out of place. Jo spun back to Dean and raised her gun but he grabbed her wrist and applied pressure. She let out a cry, lifting her other hand to, in turn, grab Dean's wrist where he tried to bring the blade to her throat.

They wrestled like that, both trying to win. Then Dean swept out Jo's feet and she tumbled, bringing him down with her. Dean used his new vantage point to put his full weight down on the blade. It drug towards Joanna's neck and the fear bloomed in her eyes. Dean still held her wrist and the gun out to the side and she fervently tried to hold back the First Blade with her other hand.

A wild gleam entered Dean's eyes and he grinned savagely. Then Jo shifted her hips and threw him off, nudging the blade so it struck the floorboards instead of her flesh. Dean rolled and his weapon was ripped from his grasp, left to pierce the floor. His palm hit the ground and a stray loose nail ripped a jagged line through the skin.

Lying side-by-side, Jo kicked her leg in an arc, bringing it towards Dean. He caught it in both hands and palmed it away, shooting out his hand to strike Jo. She never blocked it and his knuckles raked her face, bringing on a sudden and strong head-ache.

Jo groaned against the pain and Dean got to his feet, slamming a foot into Jo's ribs. She screamed and rolled into a ball. Dean kicked out again and this time just managed to hit her stomach. Retching slightly, Jo pushed to her unsteady feet, both hands wrapped around her aching stomach. Dean ignored the First Blade and while Jo was weak he slammed his palm into her sternum and she flew back.

Her spine slammed into the wall and she slumped, eyes wavering between sleep and consciousness. Dean advanced and Jo could barely respond. With a smirk Dean wrapped his bleeding hand in that golden hair and dragged Jo back to the main room of the church.

Joanna was screaming; she barely recognised it as her own scream but the pain emitting from her head was superior. Dean let Jo fall to the floor and he flexed his fingers, summoning the blade. It flew to his grip and he knelt beside Jo.

Her brown eyes slid over to him and she tried to run, to fight but her body was injured and tired. Too weak to respond.

With a madman's grin, Dean moved the bottom of her shirt slightly and drew the First Blade straight across the anti-demon tattoo.

Joanna Beth screamed as blood began to pump away lazily. Her eyes caught the watch on the table and without even thinking, she again worked out the time; 26 minutes.

Dean drew back her attention when he drug the blade across her arm.

Another scream broke the air and Dean laughed joyously.

Pretty violent, huh? See, me and my friend, I'll just call her Kitty (She wanted to be called that), originally had this awesome plan and reason as to why Dean should break free then we.. We forgot it so I wrote this instead ^_^ Also, what about the random part in the middle? Pretty weird, huh... ^_^ Anywho, (That is like my ending word- Anywho... O.O =O ) See ya next chapter (Even though, technically I can't see you..). *Does eyebrow trick like Gabriel* Or can I? And that part when Jo punches Dean across his delicate features is a reference to one of their cousins on their mother's side when she says to Dean: You have delicate features for a hunter.