Dust & Love

Shovel in Hand and Soil Beneath Boots.

Thu, 04 Oct 2007 14:29:50 GMT

Long time no see, guys!

Title: Shovel in Hand and Soil Beneath Boots.
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, unfortunately.
Characters: Dean, Sam, Jo, Bobby.
Summary:How Jo patches up the brothers' lives. For quiet_rebel's Jo Harvelle Ficathon. noelia_g/ Joanna wanted rain, a scar and a coin toss and no character death or fluff. I hope I delivered. :)

The hunt has gone bad.

The brothers are past worn out and have more than couple new scratches to prove it.

Rain comes down hard and heavy as if reflecting their sombre mood as they approach Bobby's front door. Always their last resort. Stubborn. Should have thrown in the towel long before.

“You two look bad,” Bobby states after letting them inside and taking in their long-unshaven faces and blood-shot eyes. Bobby reckons it's been a month at most since he's last seen them, but it looks like it's been longer. A lifetime.

“Sorry to drop in like this,” Dean says with a smile only vaguely resembling his usual smirk.

Sam doesn't say a thing.

A muffled gasp then: “Dean? Sam?” Dean looks past Bobby to see Jo. Hasn't seen that girl since Sam was possessed. He frankly had no intention of ever seeing her again, but here they are. She looks the same, but not. Older. Hair a bit longer. Same wicked glint in her dark eyes.

Dean only acknowledges the girl who once stitched him up with a tired nod. “Alright if me and Sammy stay here for the night?” he asks Bobby.

“Chirsto,” Bobby mutters.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “You think we're possessed or something?” He's too broken to be offended.

Bobby adjusts his old baseball cap. “Can't blame me. Ain't lookin' like yourselves.”

“What happened?” Jo butts in.

The older man gives her a look. “This is my house y'all are in, I ask the questions.”

“Whatever,” Jo says and goes upstairs.

“Sam, what happened?” Bobby asks once Jo's out of earshot.

He doesn't reply. Just glances up with dull eyes. Dean answers, “We were on this one motherfucking case for awhile. Finally finished it up. We just need a place to crash, that's all.” Bobby can tell he's lying, but he can't do a thing about it.

**

Dean brings their bags up from the Impala. Sam just follows silently. There's three rooms on the top floor. One for Jo and one for Bobby and Sam and Dean share the last. Dean stretches out on the creaky bed while Sam stares blankly out the window into the night.

Dean rubs his forehead. “What're we gonna do?”

“I can't kill her,” Sam replies, voice quiet.

Dean sits up. “She's already dead, Sammy!”

Sam's voice rises, “Dean. You don't get it! I can't do it!” He storms out of the room and slams the door behind him. Dean reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp before pulling the covers up to his chin. It's not cold, but he shivers.

**

Jo can't sleep. She tiptoes down the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone up. She opens the door and it's still raining. Jo's about to go back to her room when she spots Sam outside. “Sam?” she says, jogging towards the tall Winchester.

He doesn't give any indication that he's noticed her.

“Sam!”

Nothing.

She's positive he's ignoring her, but can't figure out why. He's the one that taunted her while she was tied to a pole when he was possessed. “Are you mad at me?” she asks softly.

Sam doesn't even look at her. His hair is wet and slick around his face and big fat rain droplets cling to his eyelashes. Jo doesn't like standing out in the downpour like this, but she needs him to talk. She needs to understand.

“Please, Sam, just look at me.” No response. Her shoulders sag and they stand in silence for a few long minutes. Sam finally turns to leave and Jo grabs his arm. “Sam, please, say something.” He yanks his arm away. She can't stand this. “What is wrong with you?” she yells into his face.

Sam finally, achingly slow, looks down at her. He blinks then slugs her right in the face. Hard. She stumbles backwards and falls into a muddy puddle. He returns to the house.

Jo clutches at her cheek where Sam's fist had connected. Her eyes water from the pain. She awkwardly stands up and almost falls back down. Her clothes are soaked through. She slowly walks back to the house, low sobs hitching in her throat.

**

Dean comes down the next morning, freshly shaved and rested, to see that Bobby made breakfast. Sam's already at the table, poking at his food. Dean plops down on the seat beside his brother and piles food onto his plate. Jo comes in a few minutes later. Her skin is startlingly white in contrast to a massive bruise on her cheek, the color of sunsets.

“Fuck Jo, what happened to you?” Dean asks despite his original decision to keep her out of his life.

Jo scowls. “I fell,” she replies in a dangerous voice, looking pointedly at Sam, who doesn't even glance up from his half-eaten breakfast.

Dean can't believe his brother would hit a girl plain out like that. The shit is seriously hitting the fan and he knew he couldn't do a thing about it until he had a chance to talk with Sam alone. Ever since they saw that spirit a little less than three weeks ago, Sam hasn't been himself. “Sorry,” Dean offers, knowing its not nearly enough.

“Here Jo, sit down,” Bobby says, pulling out a chair for her. “Eat something.” He sets out a plate then motions for Dean to follow him out of the room.

“I don't know what the hell is wrong with your brother, but you two have to be gone in an hour,” he tells Dean after he shuts the door. Dean's never seen Bobby so mad.

“Don't worry, we'll be gone before you know it,” Dean replies before sticking his head back into the kitchen. “Come on Sammy, time to jet.”

**

“I'm coming with you,” Jo says stubbornly, bag already packed and slung over her shoulder.

Dean laughs. “No way in hell. Bobby doesn't want us anywhere near you.” He glances over Jo's shoulder and out the window. Sam is already waiting in the Impala.

“Either you're letting me come with you or I'll just follow you in one of Bobby's old cars.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Fine, but you're sitting in the back and no talking to Sam. Got it?”

Jo grins then flinches when the bruised skin over her cheek moves. “Got it,” she says.

**

Jo never asks where they are heading, and they never tell her. She just sits in the back and doesn't say a word. Sam's the same. Dean finds the quiet unbearable. He cranks up all his favorite songs and kind of likes the fact no one is going to tell him to turn it down.

The three check into a motel where the only room left has just one bed. “I claim the bed,” Jo says as soon as they enter the room, and it's the first time she's said anything since they stopped at a gas station over three hours ago.

Dean, eager for some social interaction, is willing to put up a fight. “That's not the way it works, honey. You can't just claim it,” he says, dumping his duffel bag on the floor near the door. Sam sits on the couch and turns on the TV, a slight frown on his face. The brothers haven't had a minute alone to talk yet. Dean knows Sam probably hates that Jo tagged along. “We'll flip a coin,” Dean tells Jo.

She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Do it.”

Dean grins and digs a quarter out of his back pocket. “Heads you get the bed, tails Sammy does.”

Jo raises an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted the bed.”

He shrugs and smirks. “Nah. I'm not a selfish guy.” He swears he hears Sam snort.

Dean tosses the coin. “Heads. Bed goes to the lady.” He pockets the coin.

“Sam can have it. I'll take the couch,” Jo says with a small smile.

Dean looks at her like she's crazy. “Whatever. Hear that Sammy? Bed's yours,” he says and plops down on the couch beside his brother. Sam grunts then flicks off the TV and gets into the bed. “Guess it's time for bed,” Dean comments.

“Can I talk to you for a second, Dean?” Jo asks. Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Outside,” she adds.

He glances at Sam, who looks to be already asleep. “Yeah alright.”

The two go out onto the balcony. Jo leans over the rail and says, “Where are we going?”

“I don't know,” Dean replies honestly.

Jo sighs. “How can you not know?”

“I just don't.”

“Aren't you guys hunting something?”

“We ain't hunting anything-” He says and Jo frowns questioningly. “-Comes to us.”

**

Jo was comfortable enough on the couch, but sleep wouldn't come. Dean was having trouble on the floor too; tossing and turning every five seconds. She could tell Sam was awake too. The air in the cramped motel room was heavy, thicker. Something was off.

Dean suddenly grunts and sits up, seeming to have given up on sleep. He meets Jo's eyes but instead speaks to Sam: “Sammy, you awake? She's here, I think.”

“I can feel her,” Sam says softly, almost childlike.

“Who?” Jo asks, confused.

Both the brothers' eyes are focused past Jo. The window. She sits up and looks. A flickering pure white light grows to fill most of the room. Jo squints. A woman with wavy blond hair wearing a long white dress appears in the center of the light. She's so beautiful. Jo knows she's dead though.

“Jess?” Sam says, eyes wet. He's waited a long week for her. He was starting to believe he and Dean just imagined her the first few times. Jess's ghost smiles and nods.

With Jo pretty much right next to Jess, Dean can see why Sam hates Jo now. With their matching blond hair and all that glowing light, they look almost the same. It hurts Sam to see Jo alive when all he sees of his dead girlfriend is her ghost.

Sam gets out of the bed and reaches out for Jess. Dean thinks Sam is probably the only man who likes being haunted. It's sick. They need to salt and burn her bones. As if Sam will ever go for that plan.

Dean motions for Jo to come sit with him on the floor. “That Sam's dead girlfriend?” Jo whispers. He nods. “How long has she been haunting him?”

He shrugs. “First time was about three weeks ago. This is the fourth time,” he pauses, “That I know of.”

“Must be hard,” Jo says, not know what else to say.

“Sammy refuses to take care of it. I mean, I'd do it, but I think it's something he has to do.”

Jo watches Sam. “I think you're right.”

The light suddenly disappears and Sam's soft sobbing fills the suddenly quiet room.

**

Against Sam's wishes, Dean is driving them to California. They stop to take care of what should be a quick salt and burn, but Dean's careless because he's too busy keeping an eye on Jo and Sam. Dean watches as his brother and Jo fight side by side, backing each other up. They shoot quick smiles at each other, and he feels like he's witnessing something intimate, but he knows that can't be right. The two forgive each other through the simple act of fighting a common enemy.

Something sharp plunges into his back. “Fuck!” Should be focusing. His knees buckle from the sudden pain. Damn ghost found the weakest link.

“Dean!” Jo hurries over to him while Sam's shotgun bullet connects with the almost transparent ghost. She pulls the ax out of his back with one steady tug.

Sam yells, “Jo, the bones!” Reminding her of what needs to be done.

“Dean, lighter!” Jo says, waiting for him to pass her his.

“Use mine, quick!” Sam tosses his to her.

Within a minute, it's all over. Hungry flames eating away at old bone, the soft fizzing of salt and magic.

**

Back at the motel, Dean takes of his shirt. His back is throbbing with pain but he refuses to go to a hospital. He doesn't care much for hospitals, unless it's for Sammy. His back is a bloodied mess. Sam helps him to lay stomach down on the bed. Jo gets out her first aid kit.

Dean closes his eyes as Jo and Sam work on his back. They work in silence and he almost falls asleep. Jo touches his arm. “Where's this from?”

Dean opens his eyes to see what she's looking at. His scar. It's a new one, still white and fleshy. “Motherfuckin' kid with a swiss army knife,” he tells her but doesn't elaborate. Just closes his eyes again.

Jess's ghost doesn't come that night.

**

It's dark when the three approach Jess's grave. Sam walks ahead, and Dean lets him. It's clear that he needs time alone with her remains before they help her move on. He looks over at Jo and her face is still and unreadable.

Sam kneels by the gravestone, tracing his fingers over the words. Her name. Dean holds a shovel out for his brother to take. “Let's do this,” he says with what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

The brothers dig and Jo sits on the wet grass, telling them a story she heard from another hunter at the Roadhouse. Dean can tell she's trying to lighten the mood, make it easier for Sam, but it doesn't look like it's working. Sam's quiet and intent only on the shovel in his hands and the soil beneath his boots.

They've dug a million holes like this before, and they finish quickly. Dean kind of feels like he should have done something to make this one different. Sam stands over the grave, fingering the pouch of salt. “Ready?” Dean asks. Sam just shakes his head, refusing.

Jo lets out a soft gasp when Jess's ghost appears. It seems like Jess knows what's going to happen. She just gives Sam a bittersweet smile and nods once.

“I can't do this,” Sam says, “Jess... I can't.”

Jo moves to stand between the brothers. “Come on, Sam. I know you can do it.”

Sam doesn't look away from Jess. “No.”

Dean takes his lighter out of his pocket. “Please Sammy. You gotta move on. That's what she wants.”

“I can't move on or that'll mean she's really gone.” Sam sniffs and Dean feels his stomach drop. Sam looks so young.

Jo says a little harshly, “Sam, you have your brother and he'll do everything possible to help you, and you know it. But this is something you have to do. You need to be strong and move on. Stop being a baby about this and do something yourself for once!”

Dean's eyes widen at Jo's bold words, but it works. Sam glances over at Dean. “Give me the damn lighter.” Sam looks at Jess one last time.

End.

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Oncidium Orchid (10/10)

Tue, 28 Aug 2007 01:42:27 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (10/10)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Thank you to bloggybugg for putting up with me for this whole time. :)

Chapter Ten: Boots in the Past
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/

Galesburg, Illinois

“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean says softly and shoves a big ass blade into his little brother's stomach.

With the blade still three-quarters embedded in Sam, red begins to soak through his shirt; and droplets fall onto Dean. The demon's eyes are wide. Shocked. He knows the wound won't kill the demon. Dean closes his eyes. Doesn't want to see it. A sudden gush of wind startles him. He forces his eyes open. Feels like a century- only a second. Thick, black smoke shoots out of Sammy's gaping mouth. The demon has one last trick up its sleeve- letting Sam die in his brother's arms. It's gone now. Gone to find a new shell.

“Dean,” Sam says weakly and coughs. Blood trickles down his chin.

Dean quickly reacts and gets out from underneath his brother. He carefully helps Sam lie down. “Fuck, Sammy,” he whispers. He doesn't know what to do. Can't think. He pulls the blade out of Sam's stomach. He flinches as a look of sharp pain flashes across his brother's face. “Sammy, I gotta get you to the car. You're gonna be fine. I'll get you to a hospital. You'll be fine,” he murmurs.

Sam coughs again then replies, “Help me stand... I think I can walk.” Dean is doubtful but nods anyways and helps his brother up. He supports Sam as much as possible and they manage to stumble over to the Impala. Sam stretches out over the backseat and Dean hops in the front and puts his keys in the ignition. “Wait, Dean,” Sam says.

“No time to waste, Sammy,” Dean replies and starts up the car.

“Jo,” Sam urges.

“Fuck!” He gets out of the car. “Stay right here, Sammy, I'll be back. I promise.” Sam just nods.

Dean races into the now half falling down house. Bill the thug must still be downstairs. Dean flings open the cellar door and hurries down the steps as he draws the same blade he stabbed his brother with. He doesn't even try to be quiet as he descends.

Jo had been hearing muffled crashes and gunshots from her cell. She's been alone since the demon found out about Daniel. She knows it must have been Dean. He is probably dead by now. She feels lost and empty and cold and hungry. She hears a distant: “Get over here, you motherfucker, I don't have time for this!” Then: “Fuck this!” Followed by an echoing gunshot. She stands up and presses herself against the groove where she knows the door opens. “Dean! Dean! Help I'm in here! Dean!” she yells.

The stone door suddenly opens and Jo stumbles out. “Fuck... Jo?” Dean says with wide eyes. He blinks then turns away, taking off his jacket. He hands it back to her without looking. Jo's confused then remembers her lack of clothing. She turns red and slips on Dean's leather coat. She's embarrassed, but the jacket feels so right.

“Dean... Thanks,” she says softly when he turns around.

He raises an eyebrow, looking approvingly at the sight of Jo wearing nothing but his jacket. “Yeah...” he answers then bites his lip. “Fuck, come on, we gotta go, now!” He roughly grabs her arm and pulls her up the steps. He gracefully jumps over a body on the stairs but Jo nearly stumbles over it. It's a big older man with dark hair and a bullet in his forehead.

“Dean?” she asks.

“He was human, but I had to,” he replies darkly, already pulling on her arm again.

The two sprint towards the Impala, Dean filling Jo in on what had happened. He starts up the car and Jo rides shotgun. She looks back at Sam and can't help feeling hate.

Dean and Jo finally sit down in the waiting room at the hospital. The nurses won't let them visit Sam yet, but the doctor says Sam will make it. Jo goes off to get some coffee and Dean almost cries. His little brother is gonna make it. All is well in the world.

They pay for a motel a couple blocks away, but the two don't leave the hospital for more than an hour at a time. They're finally able to see Sam but he's asleep. Bobby visits and brings the three some charms to protect against demonic possession, but has to leave right away. Things need to be taken care of and there's news the demon is already causing havoc elsewhere.

Jo's gone doing laundry when Sam finally opens his eyes. Dean, who had dozed off in a chair beside the bed, wakes when Sam mutters a soft, “Hey, Dean.”
Dean grins. “You okay, big guy?”

“Never better,” Sam replies a little sarcastically. Dean can tell he's still in a lot of pain. “Where's Jo?”

“Doing laundry.” Dean smiles. “Some of your's too, I'm pretty sure.”

“So she's not hurt too bad or anything?” Sam asks slowly.

“She's fine. Don't worry about it, Sammy.” Sam touches the bandage on his stomach and suddenly won't look at Dean. “Sorry about that, man- I almost killed you.”

Sam ignores him. “Listen Dean... I think I was gonna rape her... torture her. I touched her-”

Dean cuts him off. “It wasn't you. It's not your fault, you were possessed.” Dean feels sick. He had wondered why Jo was naked in there, but she never said anything.

“I know I wasn't in control, but I felt everything. I was along for the entire ride. I gotta talk to her... apologize, or something.”

A nurse briskly walks in and checks on Sam. She looks at Dean. “Sorry, but you'll have to leave now. You can come back in the morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says absently to the nurse. “Sammy, don't worry about it. We'll be back tomorrow and you can talk to her. I'm sure she's forgiven you. It wasn't your fault.”

In the motel room, Dean paces. He finally dials Jo's cell number. “Hey, yeah it's me. Nurse says we can't visit again till tomorrow. Yeah. No, it's fine. Oh yeah, Sam woke up. He'll be alright. Try to hurry back here, I got something to talk to you about. Bye.” He hangs up.

Truth is, he has lots to talk to Jo about. The murdering of Mark was right up there with what happened in that cell.

Dean is watching TV when Jo comes back carrying duffel bags filled with clean laundry. “Just because I'm a girl shouldn't mean I get stuck with doing the laundry,” she says.

He flicks off the TV. “Yeah, but I think you'll be the only one that'll complain when our clothes are gettin' a little ripe.”

She laughs and sets the bags down on the floor. “Yeah, whatever, Dean.”

Dean feels troubled as he runs a hand through his short, spiky hair. He finally gives her a steady stare. “You killed Mark.” He makes sure it doesn’t sound anything like a question.

Her jaw drops a little. The happiness that was set in her features a second ago is now gone. Poof. “What did you say?”

“Do you really need it repeated?” He crosses his arms across his chest.

“I don't know what the hell you're talking about,” she says, a little hostile.

“Joanna, don't fucking lie to me!” he says in a voice louder than comfortable. It's the first time he's used her full name that she can remember. “I have proof. I can't believe you didn't tell me. I had to find out from a stranger!” He throws Karen's notes and they land at Jo's feet.

She picks up the the paper and reads it slowly. “...What is this?”

“Met a girl that could see the past. Read it all Jo, it says I phoned you right after you killed him! You couldn't tell me then?” His voice softens. “Really Jo, I could've helped you.”

Her eyes fill and overflow with wet, sloppy tears. She's pretty sure she hates herself more than anything else right about now. “You were so mad that I shot Sam. Dean, there was no way I could have said anything!”

Dean sighs. He never knows what to do when a girl starts crying like this. “Jo, just sit down. Here,” he sits [sets?] her on the bed. “I just want you to listen, okay?” She nods. “I'm not mad that you killed him. I'm just a little pissed you didn't say anything. You had plenty of chances.” A muscle twitches in his jaw. “Shhh, stop crying. Just forget about it, alright?”

“I don't think I can... just forget,” she says.

“You're right. You'll never forget. But you just gotta suck it up and fucking move on. Right now. Got it? Feeling guilty and dragging your boots in the past is not gonna get you anywhere.”

She doesn't say anything. He feels like now’s a good time to change the topic. “So uh... when Sam woke up, he said some things,” he tells her awkwardly. “I don't know what went on down there, but I thought it might be um... easier, if I talk to you about it first. I just want you to understand that Sam had no control over what he was doin'- it was all the demon, okay? It was just messing with you.”

Jo swallows loudly and doesn't look at him. Dean continues, “Sam was sayin' how the demon was wanting to-” he coughs, a bit embarrassed, but goes on, “-rape you and hurt you. I don't really know in which order or if at the same time or-”

Jo cuts him off. “It's fine, Dean. I get it. I know Sam would never do anything like that.” But that didn't stop her from hating the familiar face the demon wore. Things would never be the same with Sam.

“Good,” Dean says with a smile, glad that all that was over with. He sits down beside her on the bed. “I looked,” he says with a small smile.

Jo frowns. “Uh... looked at what?”

His timid smile grows into a boyish grin. “At you.”

“Alright... when? Or do you just mean in general, like right now?” She raises an eyebrow.

“When you tumbled out wearing absolutely nothing,” he replies.

This gets an embarrassed grin out of her. “And did you like what you saw?” she asks, heartbeat quickening. As much as she's denied it, she's always had a little crush on a certain Winchester.

He leans forward and murmurs a rough “Uh huh,” against her lips before pressing his mouth against hers. The kiss is just a soft touch and Jo breaks away.

“I have to tell you something, Dean,” she says.

“Is it really important?” he groans, not wanting to give her space. He needs this. Now.

“Yes. Very important.”

“Fine. What?”

Jo grins coyly. “I looked.”

“At what?” He smirks.

“When I was at the laundromat, I looked at your boxers. I mean, really looked.”

He puts a hand high on her thigh. “Good. I woulda been offended if you didn't. Plus, they really needed to be washed.” He leans in and kisses her again, this time a little more urgent. She moves so that she's straddling him and he moans low in his throat. “Jo, I want you so bad,” he says.

“I know,” she answers and undoes the buttons of his flannel shirt.

Dean knows he has to leave her. He has to bust Sam out of the hospital so they can get back to doing their thing. Hunting. Just the two of them. The way it's meant to be. Deep down he hopes it won't be the last time he sees her. Jo naked in bed is a good last memory, but he doesn't want it to be the last time he ever sees her. He stealthily slips out of bed only to see it is empty anyways. He smiles a little sadly. She left before he did. He feels strangely proud of her. She has changed. She's strong now.

the end.

Author's Note: The last chapter... I feel really accomplished actually- I've never finished anything like this before. Kinda sad too... Oncidium Orchid was a fun little Supernatural world. This has been quite a journey for me. 15 179 words. Thanks for sticking with me. I may be doing a continuation of some kind in the future, would people be interested?

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free to be scary

Sun, 26 Aug 2007 20:45:39 GMT

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Oncidium Orchid (9/10)

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 17:45:33 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (9/10)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Author's Note: Eep, only one more chapter!
Thank you to bloggybugg for being a great beta again! <3

Chapter Nine: Winchester Life
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/

Des Moines, Iowa

Karen clears a spot on the floor for Dean to sit, but he remains standing. “How can you help?” he asks, a little impatient.

“I may have an idea where Sam took Joanna.”

“What do you mean, 'an idea'? I don't have time for anything but the facts.” It is hard for Dean not to get frustrated with Karen. She is so unspecific and flutters around like a kid. He takes a breath. “Do you know or not?”

Karen doesn't seem to pick up on Dean's anxious tone; instead, she looks excited. Like this is all some game. “You're supposed to meet Sam, in Illinois... right?” She doesn't wait for an answer. “I know I've got at least a couple pages somewhere about a place the demon has down there... a hideout... or something.”

Dean rubs his forehead. “Why didn't you say anything earlier?”

She smiles apologetically and replies, “Just remembered now.”

“Okay lady, Illinois ain't a small place. Can you narrow it down at all?”

“Galesburg!” she exclaims.

“What?”

“I'm 90% sure it's there. Huge railroad yard.” She find the papers she needs on top of a plate of crumbs. Her eyes flick across the notes behind her huge glasses. “I didn't write what the building looks like from the outside... but it's old... with a basement. I bet that's where he took Joanna,” she says triumphantly.

“Can I take those?” Dean asks, gesturing to the papers she was glancing over. Karen hands them over and Dean folds them neatly, tucking them into his jacket pocket next to the documentation of the murder Jo committed. “Thanks for uh, helping me.” It’s time to leave. He feels sort of bad leaving her here in the mess of the Winchester life, but he has a brother to stop, and a girl to save.

Karen gives him a knowing smile. “I understand you're real, but to me you're still my character. I know you, and I know you gotta get out of here and do this on your own. It was a pleasure meeting you, Dean Winchester.”

Galesburg, Illinois

Dean drives the Impala long and hard, not counting the hours or days that are passing him by. It all bleeds into one stretch of highway, a promise of violence at the end.

The sun sets before Dean even reaches Galesburg. The railroad yard is eerie in the dark, and his prize is looming just out of sight. He’s prepared and ready for action. He carries more firepower than he thought he'd ever need before. Deep down he wishes he won't have to use a single weapon against his brother, but he’s ready to do whatever needs to be done.

A wooden house among the train tracks catches Dean's attention. This has to be the place. He holds his shotgun steady and kicks open the frail door. The door falls off its hinges and thuds onto the rough floor. Silence. He creeps into the room just as a fist connects with his jaw. The shotgun is ripped from his grip. He doesn't even get a good look at his attacker until he's pinned on the floor by an older man with dark hair.

“Thanks Bill, but I can take it from here. Leave.” Dean recognizes that voice. He looks up to see Sam coming up from a cellar across the room. The thug named Bill gets off Dean and goes down into the basement without saying a word. Dean gets to his feet. He looks around for his shotgun but can't see it anywhere. Sam grins the grin that Dean remembers so well. “Good to see ya, Dean,” Sam says gleefully. “I was starting to doubt you'd show up at all!”

The place is filthy. Dean wipes some dirt off his jeans. “Yeah, had some car troubles,” he tells the demon sarcastically. “Do you have Jo tied up here somewhere?” He looks pointedly at the cellar door.

“Of course not.” Sam doesn't even try to make it sound less like a lie.

Dean ignores his answer and comments, “Man, I always knew you wanted to get into that girl's panties, but isn't this a little extreme?” He gives Sam a small sideways smile.

The demon rolls Sam's eyes. “Ah, always with the humour, Dean.”

Dean grins a little wider. “One of us has to be funny or the annual Winchester family reunion would be bleak, dude.”

Sam steps closer and says in a not at all sympathetic voice, “Sorry to tell ya Dean, but there's no one left to come to your family reunions. You're the only Winchester left. Pity.”

Fun time's over. Dean's smile disappears. Time for business. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to lead an army.”

“You have got to be shittin' me,” Dean says with a frown. “There's no way I'm leading some un-dead, cracked up army of your’s. No way in hell.”

Sam leans against the wall beside Dean. “Jo's gone. There's nothing left for you. Do this for me, and you'll have a reason to live.”

“No fucking way, man.”

Sam's fingers are suddenly around Dean's throat. He claws at Sam's hand, fighting to breathe. “You will do this for me, or you will die. It's all up to you, brother.” Dean just stops struggling and regards his younger brother with dull eyes, daring him to do it. Daring Sam to kill him. The demon was right, there is nothing left here for him.

Sam growls and throws Dean with such force that he goes right through the opposite wall. Dean rolls onto a train track where he lays and fights to get his breathing back to normal. He gets up and pulls out a second gun from beneath his jacket just as Sam climbs outside through the huge hole Dean made in the house.

“Dean, you don't understand what you're turning down!” Sam yells, coming quickly towards him. Dean knows what has to be done. He shoots at his brother but Sam sees it coming and easily gets out of the way. The demon is just too fast and kicks the gun out of Dean's hands before he even has time to react. Two guns gone. The fight is not going well for Dean.

Sam kicks again and manages to clip the side of Dean's face with his boot. Dean tries to ignore the pain and grabs his brother's leg and uses the momentum to bring Sam to the ground. Dean's a little shaky on his feet and Sam easily trips him. Both brothers lay panting on the ground for a second.

“Last chance, Dean,” the demon says quietly, but Dean hears it loud and clear.

“I'd rather go to hell,” Dean replies just as quietly.

Sam sighs. “Fine.” In a flash, Sam's on Dean with his shotgun shoved into Dean’s face. “Any last words before I blow your brains all over these rusty train tracks?” the demon asks, still hopeful.

“Yes.” He pauses. “Sorry Sammy,” Dean says softly and shoves a big ass blade into his little brother's stomach.

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Oncidium Orchid (8/10)

Mon, 20 Aug 2007 15:07:15 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (8/?)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Author's Note: The story is finally beginning to wind down... I'm guessing there will probably only be two more chapters after this one. :)
Thank you to bloggybugg for being a great beta again! <3

Chapter Eight: Little Brother
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/4/5/6/7/

Unknown, Illinois

Jo wakes up naked and alone, sitting with her back against a stone wall. The tiny, dark cell is smelly and sticky with sweat and something much thicker and darker. She panics and struggles to stand up. She's dizzy and the room blurs and spins. Vomit rises in her throat and she tries to steady herself against the cold wall. She can't see a door of any kind, but she feels along the slick walls for an opening. She reasons that if she was put in there, there has to be a way out. Her fingers trace across a groove in the stone; long and rectangular like a door. She tries to pry it open but it doesn't budge. It must open from the outside. She's frustrated and starts sobbing frantically.

“Help me! Please let me out!” she cries against the groove. “Is anyone there?!”

She can hear faint voices on the other side of the wall. Jo can't make out the words.

The door creaks open and Jo steps back. Sam slips in, securely closing the door behind him. “Good to see you're awake, Jo,” Sam says gleefully.

She tries to cover her bare skin with her hands and hair. “Where are my clothes?” She feels so vulnerable without them.

Sam's demon eyes rake over her body. “Don't worry. You don't need them right now.”

Jo repeats herself louder, “Where are my clothes?!” She swallows and her voice softens. “Please.”

Sam unexpectedly slaps her hard across the face and she hits her head against the wall behind her, then sinks to the floor. “I told you not to worry about it!” he says.

“Why am I-” her voice breaks. She clears her throat and tries again. “Why am I here?”

“Joanna, Joanna, Joanna. I gave you so many chances to get out.” He kneels in front of her. “It's your fault I had to resort to this.”

Jo can feel fresh tears on her cheeks. She wishes she was stronger. “Please let me go,” she begs.

Sam grins and lifts her chin so she's forced to look into his eyes. “I can't, Jo. You're just gonna go running back to Dean again. We can't have that.”

“Why?” her voice is so small.

Sam licks his lips. “Well, you see, I want Dean to lead a certain... army of mine. I seriously doubt he'll go along with my plans if you're following him around like a love-sick puppy.” He pauses. “With you gone, Dean will do anything for his little brother.”

Jo spits. “Can't you lead your own goddamn armies?” Sure, the word 'army' coming out of Sam's mouth did scare her, but she had other things to worry about. She had to get out. Warn Dean.

He shakes his head and speaks to her like she's a kid, “Of course I can, but Dean would be a very helpful addition to my team. He has certain... character traits, instincts and impulses that I desire.”

“Bastard.” Her voice is scratchy.

“Tsk, tsk. Such naughty language coming from such a pretty little mouth,” Sam comments before grabbing her hands from where they were covering her chest and groin. He traps her struggling hands under his knees on either side of her sitting form. He'll always be stronger. “Such a pretty mouth,” he says again, tracing a finger across her lips before slipping it inside her mouth.

She tries to kick out at him but he's got her secure. He laughs low and intimately. “Although I have little desires for a weak human like you, I can still think of plenty... enticing uses for you.” Jo suddenly bites down hard on the finger in her mouth. Sam swears loudly. He pries her jaw open roughly with his other hand. “Fucking bitch!” Without releasing her aching jaw, he kisses her, tongue invading. She's struggling wildly and crying. Sam breaks away and his free hand drifts south between her thighs.

She knows she has to do something- anything- to stop all this. “Daniel!” she blurts out.

San freezes and backs off a little. “What did you say?”

“Daniel,” she repeats.

He snarls, “How do you know that name?”

“Dean killed that bastard, just like he's gonna kill you!” Adding a little threat wouldn't hurt.

Sam's suddenly standing, rubbing his forehead as if he has a headache. Jo didn't even know if demons could get headaches. He looks down at her. “How did I not know this?!” Her kicks her hard. “How the fuck did I not know this?”

“Someone's losing their touch,” she murmurs under her breath.

Sam ignores her. He's mumbling to himself, “Didn't even know he was dead... killed by Dean? How did I not even sense this?” He suddenly stops and leans against the far wall, which isn't far enough. He smiles and looks rabid. “You're fucking lying.”

“I'm not. We left him in his cornfield. Go look for yourself,” she says sincerely, watching Sam coolly. She can see that he knows she's telling the truth. A look of pain and anguish plasters itself across his face.

“I cannot believe this. Daniel... so much. Important.” He paces. “How the fuck did Dean manage to pull that off? Daniel... he's one of the best... knew I shoulda kept him close.”

Jo just looks at him. Bringing up Daniel was the right thing to do. Sam knocks his fist against the stone wall a couple times and the door eases open by what looks to be a flunky. Sam leaves without a word and closes the door tightly behind him.

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Oncidium Orchid (7/10)

Sat, 14 Jul 2007 19:17:27 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (7/?)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Author's Note: I'm going on holiday tomorrow for a week, so this is probably going to be my last update until I get back. :(
Thank you to bloggybugg for being a great beta again! <3

Chapter Seven: Recent Tragedies
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/4/5/6/

Unknown, Illinois

The Night Before

The demon inside Sam is furious. He punches a hole straight through the wall. Bits of plaster penetrate his human fist and blood trickles down his fingers. “I couldn't have heard you right,” he says with a growl into the telephone.

The man on the other line stutters, “Sir- I'm just tellin' ya what I saw. Dean Winchester and the girl are both here in the motel.” A long pause. “What do you what me to do?”

Sam thinks for a moment. What does he want done about this little problem? “Don't do anything. I'm coming,” he says before hanging up.

Des Moines, Iowa

Jo can't sleep. She rolls over and sees Dean already snoring. She doesn't want to wake him up so she tip toes out of the room and goes down to the lobby. It's empty this late and the man at the front desk gives her a weird look but doesn't say a word. She sits on one of the couches and picks up a newspaper. She scans it quickly for anything about a dead man found in a cornfield before realizing it wouldn't be in the paper so soon. She sighs and tucks her hair behind her ear just as someone plops down next to her.

“You couldn't sleep either?” she asks Dean awkwardly, not looking up from the paper.

Sam leans in. “What are you doing here, Jo?”

She jolts away by reflex, putting as much space between them on the small couch as possible. Looking up at the man at the desk, she sees he's focused on a book and hasn't noticed a thing. Sam puts a large hand on her knee. “I'm not gonna hurt you. Just wanna talk,” he says in a soft voice.

Jo watches him closely for any sudden movements. “Fine then, talk,” she says in the strongest voice she can.

Sam smiles wide enough to show dimples. He shakes his head, amused. He finally looks at her and asks, “How many times do you have to be told to just go home?” His words are harsh yet his voice remains good-humoured.

Jo scowls. “You and your flunkies sound like broken records. For the last time, I am not going home.”

Sam scootches closer to her. He moves his hand on her knee further up her thigh. He whispers against her hair, “You are a dirty, murdering whore. Go home.”

Tears spring to her eyes. “Dean needs me.”

Sam laughs loudly, nothing like the real Sam's laugh. He doesn't move away. He takes a strand of her hair and twirls it around his index finger. “How could Dean possibly need you? I'm sure he spends more time saving your ass than actually accomplishing anything.”

“If I'm such a burden, why do you care so much? In fact, you should want me dragging Dean down, right?” She almost smiles. She has him there.

“Wrong.” He snaps and smashes her head into the coffee table. She's out like a light and he slings her over his shoulder with ease. Sam nods to the man at the front desk whose eyes flash demon black as he carries Jo out the door.

Present Time

Dean is soaked. The rain is coming down as hard as ever. He still hasn't found Jo. She hasn't called. No clues. He rubs his forehead in frustration. He wants to be angry with her, but he's just scared more than anything.

He accidentally bumps into a girl. “Sorry,” he mumbles and continues on his way back to the motel, barely giving her a second look.

“Dean?” the girl asks in an unsure voice. She has dark brown hair and big glasses. He doesn't recognize her, but figures she's some chick he laid awhile back.

He doesn't have time for this. Why don't girls like this ever understand one night stands? “Uh... Maria? Julie? Kristen?” he fumbles for a name. Truth is, most of the time he never even cares enough to learn their names.

The girl looks confused for a minute then shakes her head. She lowers her voice, “I know about your brother. And Joanna Harvelle. Come with me, please.” Dean doesn't ask any questions. He just follows.

Her apartment is small and scattered with papers covering every table, piled on the floor, even on the bed. There's no empty place to sit so Dean leans against the wall closest to the door, one hand inside his jacket, just a tiny reach to a knife.

“My name is Karen...” she says distractedly, already going through a stack of papers on the kitchen counter. She doesn’t appear to be dangerous, but Dean knows even the most innocent child can be evil. “I know this is gonna sound kind of weird but... I think I've been uh... writing about you.”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Karen continues to flip through the pages. “You see... I've always wanted to be a writer.” She pushes her glasses up before they slip off the tip of her nose. “For months I've been getting these really uh... vivid images. Like moments... parts of a story- or something...” She takes one of the papers from near the bottom of a pile before going to the table and going through those ones. “I've been jotting them all down. I wanted to write a novel with them...”

Dean clears his throat awkwardly and tries to humour her. “So what's this story about?” he asks gruffly.

She finally looks up at him and smiles faintly. “It's mostly about a family... the Winchesters. John, the recently deceased hunter; Mary, the long dead wife; Sam and Dean are their sons. They hunt just like their father did. Sammy has visions of the future and tries to help people. Dean... well you're Dean, aren't you?” She stops rummaging and waits for him to say something. Anything.

Dean doesn't know what to say. This girl- whoever or whatever she is- knows too much about his family. “Yeah, I'm Dean,” he says.

She laughs. “I thought I just had a really great imagination, you know? Like I'd become a famous author.” Karen laughs again then takes off her glasses and polishes them clean with the sleeve of her sweater. “Then I saw you out there... in the rain...” She pauses. “Looked exactly how I'd written Dean... my character. But you're not just a character, are you?”

Dean still doesn't really know what to make of all this. “No, I'm not a character.” He walks over and looks at the notes. They're filled with scribbles of his past. Dean getting into fights at school... John taking them to practice shooting targets... Sam running away to college. “So you get visions?” he asks. This Karen girl must be like Sam.

“I guess so,” she says. “It doesn't seem like such a crazy idea in your world... I mean... our world? You're here, so it must all be real. I had a fire in my nursery, like Sam did. Like Andy did. I thought I was just putting a little bit of myself into the story... but it actually did happen to these people... right?”

Dean nods. “You said you also knew about Jo?” Honestly, he is a little freaked out. This girl knows everything about him, but she could still know some things he didn't.

Karen smiles knowingly. “Ah yes, the heroine of our story. Despite the recent tragedies, she continues to help you on your journey.”

“Tragedies? What tragedies?” he asks with a frown.

“Hang on,” Karen replies before leafing through some notes on the couch. “Here we go...” she says, holding one out for Dean to take. “Killing that man is a huge burden she's had to carry... or so I've written.”

Dean snatches the paper. This could be the future. He quickly reads and realizes just how wrong he is. It was before he'd even picked Jo up at the airport. She killed that demon. Mark. Dean feels his face reddening with rage. How could that little bitch not have told him all this?

A muscle jumps in his jaw and he resists the urge to crumple the paper into a ball and throw it at Karen. Instead, he carefully folds it and tucks it into his jacket pocket. “What happened after Jo and I killed Daniel in that cornfield?” he asks slowly.

Karen grins, seemingly oblivious to Dean's sudden anger. “Oooh I know,” she says. “I just wrote that part this morning.” She picks up a paper from the coffee table. She quickly scans the page before saying to Dean, “Okay, well, Dean... err... you and Jo go to a motel and you give her stitches. You fall asleep... Jo doesn't... She goes to the lobby then your brother, Sam, carries her away after knocking her out...”

Dean bites the inside of his lip. This story is not turning out so well. “Is that all? 'Sam carries her away'?”

Karen begins to look a little flustered. “You see, I don't really get many words or feelings or anything... just the plot, I think.”

He shakes his head. “I mean, what happens next? Where does he take her? What does he want with her?”

She looks at him curiously. “That's all I've written... nothing past that. Do you... uh do you know what happens yet? I mean, did anything else happen to you?”

“No,” he says harshly.

“Um, okay. Maybe I can only 'see' what's already happened? Like your brother sees the future and I see the past. That makes sense, right?” Karen responds thoughtfully.

“So you can't help me find Jo or Sammy, then,” Dean replies darkly.

Karen smiles and gestures at her notes. “I never said that.”

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Oncidium Orchid (6/10)

Tue, 10 Jul 2007 17:13:42 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (6/?)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Author's Note: Sorry for the long gap since the last chapter... I've been really busy. But here it is now! And I'm already half done the next chapter. :)
Thank you to bloggybugg for being a great beta again! <3

Chapter Six: Motel-Courtesy Cloth
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/4/5/

Des Moines, Iowa

Dean and Jo leave the dead body in the cornfield and drop the woman and her husband off at the hospital. They drive into town in silence. Dean looks angry and Jo is scared and bleeding on the seat. Dean would have normally said something, but he's too out of it.

Dean pays for a room with two beds. Jo suggests they could save a little money and just get one bed and she'd sleep on the floor. He insists on two beds.

Jo's hurt pretty bad. There's blood and dirt caked in crumbly patches on her face. A deep cut caresses her hairline. She's pale. Lost a little blood; not fatal though.

He's not too bad. But then again, he didn't get his face crushed into the mud by a crazy person. “Sit down,” he says to her, gesturing to the closest bed. Jo does as he says. There's a power in his face, real commanding. “I think you need stitches,” he tells her with a thoughtful frown.

Jo smiles faintly. “Really, I'm fine.” At Dean's raised eyebrows, she continues, “It's not a good idea to go to a hospital right now.”

“I can do it,” he replies distantly, already rummaging through his bag for the first aid kit.

She laughs in disbelief. “I said I'm fine. I'll just go wash up.” She crosses the room to the bathroom, but Dean is already there, blocking her path. She sidesteps; he mirrors. She tries to shove past, but he grabs hold of her shoulders and spins her, pinning her against the wall. “What are you doing?” Jo asks, voice a little frantic from the sudden pain.

He looks down at her. “Gotta let me stitch you up, ma'am.”

“Let me go, now.”

“Come on, Jo. Please.” He gives her a puppy-eyed look that could challenge Sam's. She just sighs.

“Listen, Dean. I am not going to let you, wielding a needle, anywhere near my face.” She smiles a small, almost apologetic smile.

In a second, his whole face hardens. He couldn't be compared to a puppy or even Sam anymore. “I know what I'm doing,” he says darkly. Jo just looks up at him. He continues, “I have fucking sewed my dad and brother's faces back together when they're messes of blood and flesh more than once. I think I can fix your one little scratch.”

Jo bites her lip. “Fine. Whatever. Just do it then.” She pushes away from him and goes to sit on the bed. Dean doesn't say a word, just comes over and dabs a wet motel-courtesy cloth against her face then sews her back up with quick, neat stitches. Barely hurts.

When he's finished, Jo touches his arm. “I can do the same for you,” she says softly. “Return the favour.” She shrugs. Just saying 'thank you' would never be enough.

Dean shakes her hand off. “No. Let's just go to sleep.” He turns off the light and climbs into the other bed. Doesn't even wash his own blood off. Jo is kind of hurt but complies. She pulls the sheets way up over her head, like she did when she was little, and hides from the monsters.

Dean wakes up. The sun is too bright and hurts his eyes. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath, knowing he should have remembered to close the curtains the night before. He pulls the blankets aside and flinches as his stiff clothes rub against skin. They stink. He hadn't even taken off his jacket.

He looks over at the empty bed beside his. Sam. He runs a shaky hand through his messy hair. His brother was always running out early every morning for coffee. He suddenly remembers. Not Sam. Jo. Where's Jo? “Fuck!” he says.

He stumbles over to the door to see her bags exactly where she left them last night. His groggy mind decides she'll be back soon. He goes back to sleep.

Hours later, Dean wakes again. The room is still as empty as it was before. He reckons she probably came by when he was sleeping and didn't want to wake him so left again. He'll wait up for her. Dean calls Jo's cell phone a few times. No answer. He flicks the dusty television set on and watches some music channel. He's not really paying attention to the show.

Jo should be back by now. Worry burns at the pit of Dean's stomach. Something could have happened to her. He should have kept a closer eye on the girl. This couldn't be happening again so soon. He leaves the room after arming himself with a couple daggers and a gun.

It's raining. Dean is surprised. Doesn't rain much here this time of the year. What if that means something? He stands outside the motel, not knowing where to start. Droplets splatter across his face and trail down his neck, soaking into his jacket. Dean doesn't like the rain.

He decides going on foot is the best idea. After all, Jo would be on foot as well. He jogs to the coffee shop down the street. No Jo. He tries the bar next. It's a little early for drinking, but you never know. Again, no Jo. Store after store, there's still no Jo. The worry in his stomach builds. It's like flames licking at his insides, the parts no one should ever see or even know they exist in a guy like him. He phones her again. No answer. He leaves an angry message, “Jo, I hope you get this soon. I don't care what you're doing or who you're with, just get your ass back to the motel or call me back.” After hanging up he realizes he sounds just like a typical parent. So not cool.

He goes back to the room after another half hour of searching. Still no Jo.

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spn comic 1-5 +outtakes

Mon, 25 Jun 2007 18:46:51 GMT

Well, I've gotten into playing the sims 2. It's incredible how realistic you can make them. I recently downloaded these Sam and Dean Sims and decided I should make a supernatural comic!

...to be continued!

outtakes

Dean took a bath all on his own while Sam was talking to Jen.

I had the boys working out so they could have nice bods for the comic. And the car behind them (which is also in the comic) actually isn't an Impala, but it was the closest I could find.

Sammy is so purdy!

OK, the crazy thing is, Dean and Paris got on so well ALL BY THEMSELVES. I didn't have to do anything. I basically just let all the sims run free while I was setting things up and these two were just all over each other.

This was just a neat shot that I decided not to use in the comic. It's through the window of the motel.

That's all for now, but it was really fun to do and I'd love to make more! There will be kind of a plot involving Jen, but I also like to do short little stories (like the one with Paris Hilton). If anyone has suggestions on how I can make this comic better or ideas for future comics, let me know! Thanks. :)

P.S. The next chapter of Oncidium Orchid will be here soon. I realize it's been over a month since my last update. I've been so busy with exams, but now that they're over, I have much more time. :)

Oncidium Orchid (5/10)

Thu, 17 May 2007 23:34:41 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (5/?)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Author's Note: This chapter was a really fun one to write, and it ended up being so long!
Thank you to bloggybugg for being a great beta again! <3

Chapter Five: Puddles of Blood
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/4/

Ames, Iowa

Dean drives to the airport. He half wants to see Jo, half doesn't. He knows it'll be hard after what’s happened; there'll be anger and silence. It'll probably be as awkward as having coffee with your date's parents. Fortunately, Dean's never really experienced anything close to that. But, he bets it'll be hard like that.

He waits for her at the baggage belt. He watches the luggage go round and round. He arrived too early. People come and go. He wants to leave and go after Sam, yet he waits. A security guard comes over and asks if he needs help with anything. Dean suspects he looks pretty suspicious right about now. He tells the man that he's just waiting for a friend. The security guard nods and wanders off. Dean knows he's still being watched.

“Dean?” says a voice behind him.

He turns and there's Jo. She looks sick. There are bags under her eyes and her skin doesn't have that nice glow he remembers it having. He can tell she's worn out. He doesn't blame her. He guesses he looks just as bad. “Hey Jo,” he greets sheepishly.

She gives Dean a small smile. “Gotta get my bag,” she says in a clipped, tired voice. She walks over to the baggage belt and hauls off a heavy duffel bag. “Still got the Impala, or did Sam run off with it?” she ventures a guess. She instantly wants to take it back. Shouldn't remind him of Sam.

Dean shakes his head. “Still got my baby. It's a miracle.” He takes Jo's bag and slings it over his shoulder, ignoring her protests. He feels like he has to make something up to her. “Hungry?” he asks.

She replies, “No, I'm fine”.

He can tell she's not fine at all. “Well I am,” he lies. “You might as well have something. Come on Jo, I'll pay.”

She reluctantly agrees and follows Dean to the airport food court. He orders some fries and burgers from a stand reeking of grease. At Jo's offer to pay for half, he just waves his credit card. “Nope. You can thank D. Hasselhoff for the meal.”

The two sit in near silence. Dean already used up all his idle conversation starters to avoid actually talking about anything of significance. He stuffs his mouth full of fries. Jo puts down the burger she'd been nibbling at. “Dean.” She sighs. “You're gonna have to tell me sooner or later what you know. About Sam. About the demon. If you want me here, you have to start sharing.” Her eyes are intense.

Dean finishes chewing. He takes a sip of his water. “I know,” he says, a bit defensively. “I just can't believe I actually asked you to come along-”

Jo interrupts. “If you don't want me here, I will fucking leave.” She's had enough. She stands and reaches for her duffel bag. Dean kicks the bag out of her reach. She glares from behind a curtain of curled blond hair.

“Sit down, Jo. I didn't mean it like that.” He runs a hand through his short hair and continues, “I didn't wanna have to ask anyone for help. You might not get this, but its hard for me to do this. Ask for help, I mean.” Jo finally sits again.

She crosses her arms on the table then leans forward and says quietly, “Never be afraid to ask for help.”

Dean straightens in his seat. “I'm ready to share now,” he says.

He tells Jo what happened, starting after he left her at the bar in Duluth. He only tells her the bare bones about the fight at Bobby's against Sam. It's too painful. He pulls up his sleeve and shows her the 'Illinois' carved into his arm. The word is pink and shiny with scar tissue. Jo wants to touch it, but doesn't. Dean even tells her about the ghost who abused young boys. It's not really necessary, but he has to tell someone. He pauses before continuing and telling Jo how he found Sam with a gun wound at the hospital. Jo looks away. He finishes with how he woke up and called her. Dean never mentions meeting Mark. It has slipped his mind.

“That's everything?” Jo asks and Dean nods. “Thank you,” she says slowly.

Dean licks his lips subconsciously. “Tell me why you shot my brother. The whole story.” The words are harsh but his voice is soft.

She tells him. She tells him everything. How Sam killed a girl before she arrived, how he'd teased and taunted her, hurt her, told her to stay out of the way and how she shot him. Dean's silent the whole time, nodding to himself once or twice. He gets why she had to do it.

“Let's get out of here,” he says, his voice a little rough.

Des Moines, Iowa

Jo falls asleep during the drive. Dean doesn't blame her. It's just cornfields flicking by and he can see she needs the rest. He watches her out of the corner of his eye for a long time. Something is different about her. Something has changed. She's not the girl he knew anymore.

A woman suddenly runs out in front of the Impala. He slams on the brakes. She's yelling for help; tears are streaming down her face. Jo startles awake, eyes wide as she watches Dean get out of the car.

“What's wrong?” Dean asks the sobbing woman. His voice is stern. Jo is standing just behind him.

The woman wipes her face and begins in a shaky voice, “I- I was walking... along this field...” She points a quivering finger at the corn field. “...with my husband.” She chokes up and wails. “Gone,” she says. “Just... gone.”

Dean looks across the wide expanse of corn. Nothing out of the ordinary. He looks back at the woman. He wishes his brother was here to comfort this lady. Dean was never good at the comforting strangers thing.

Jo's instantly there. She has an arm around the crying woman's shoulders and is telling her everything is gonna be alright. Except in most cases, it won't be. Dean frowns. Jo gives him a funny look.

He clears his throat. “Did uhh... your husband just disappear? Was he... grabbed?” He shrugs at Jo's look.

The woman regards him with fearful eyes. “I don't understand,” she says between sobs.

Jo takes over. “He just means was your husband there one second and gone the next, or was he pulled away from you?” The woman focuses on Jo, eyes big and glistening like marbles. “Even if you can't believe what you saw, you gotta tell us.”

The woman swallows. “Grabbed. He was definitely pulled away,” she clarifies.

Jo meets Dean's eyes. He nods. “Come on, ma'am. We'll find your husband. Just wait in the car,” he says and opens the door for her. “We'll be back soon.” Dean slips the car keys into his pocket.

Dean, armed with a shotgun, and Jo, with a blade, push through the mass of corn. They are in way over their heads. Dean leads the way. He's responsible for her now. Gotta protect the girl.

Jo's alert and goosebumps cover her bare arms. She doesn't like this at all. “What do you think it is?” she asks Dean quietly.

“Don't know,” he says. “Some kind of freak monster, I bet.”

There’s a loud rustle behind him, but Jo doesn't answer. He glances over his shoulder and she's gone, from right under his nose. “Shit!” he curses loudly. “Fuck,” he adds softly. He clenches his jaw and his grip tightens on the gun. He won't lose another. Not like Sam.

The corn is thick in every direction. He runs. Runs to save that woman's husband, runs to save Jo. It's dusk by now. The corn looks eerie and imposing. He doesn't stop.

Dean stumbles into a clearing. The corn has all been hacked down to form a rough circle. Puddles of blood are dark against the brown earth. A man and woman are tied up and gagged, lying face down in the dirt. The woman's blond hair surrounds a pretty face. “Jo,” he whispers and kneels down beside her. Dean bites the inside of his lip. What kind of monster has to tie up its prey?

Jo mumbles something through the gag but he can't understand. He gently pulls out the gag and Jo urgently says, “Dean, it's a fucking trap!” But it's too late. Corn shifts and suddenly there's a dark shadow standing at the edge of the clearing. It steps forward and Dean sees it's just a guy. Just a kid.

“Who are you?” the guy abruptly asks, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn't come any closer.

Dean's a bit stunned at the question. He surprises himself by actually answering. “...Dean.”

“Would you happen to be Dean Winchester?” the guy asks. Dean can now see the guy has short spiky black hair. “I'm Daniel,” he says and smiles. He looks twisted. Dean raises his shotgun.

“Heard of me?” Dean asks Daniel with a quirk of an eyebrow. “Why don't you be a nice little boy and let these people go?” he requests in a belittling voice. Dean can already tell he doesn't like Daniel much.

Daniel moves his head from side to side, as if listening to music only he can hear. He ignores Dean's request. “I've heard a lot about you. In fact, your dear brother filled me in. He's quite the gossip, ain't he?”

“Where's Sam?” Dean asks, voice low and dangerous.

“Oh I haven't seen dear Sammy for a few days. We had good times here. Where do you think all the blood came from? Sammy really is quite a blood thirsty guy. Who would have thought?”

Dean's had enough. “No one gets to call him Sammy but me. Don't talk about him like that you fucking son of a bitch!”

Jo's been quiet, listening. Watching it all play out. “Dean,” she warns. She's still tied up, but she knows that isn't the problem right now. Dean's just going to make this freak mad and get himself killed.

As much as Dean hates this guy, he's desperate for any information. He takes a breath. “Tell me why Sam was with you.”

Daniel is suddenly serious. “After our fun,” he looks pointedly at the blood then continues, “He told me that I'd get to use my powers for a real good use. Something about fighting a war.” He smiles. “He told me not to tell anyone. Guess I gotta kill you then, Dean. It really is too bad, you seem like a great guy.” The smile widens. “Bye Dean.”

Daniel is there in a flash. He's trained his psychic powers to the max. He doesn't even care about all he's lost in the process. He smashes Dean over the head with his bare hand and Dean crumples to the ground. Jo tries to scramble away, but there’s rope trapping her arms and legs. Daniel is suddenly towering over her. He presses her face into the ground, grinding her cheek into blood and dirt. She's gasping for air. Daniel chooses this moment to draw a long blade out of nowhere. He grabs the husband, who's long unconscious, and starts by cutting open the man's shirt.

Dean comes to. The stink of blood is so strong. He can almost taste it. Daniel has his back to him and is bent over something. A body. Daniel senses Dean and turns. “I'm glad you're finally awake, Dean. Been waiting. You need to see this-” he moves out of the way and reveals the husband's bare body, covered in bloody slices that read: 'The Yellow-Eyed Demon made my do it'. Dean's reminded of his arm. Daniel laughs. “Clever, yeah?” The husband's chest slowly rises and falls. God. He's still alive.

“You see, I've had these dreams for so long. When the demon finally came to me in your brother's body...” Daniel says as he wipes the blood off the blade. “Felt so fucking good. I knew I wasn't crazy.”

Dean shudders. “I'm sorry, but dude... if this isn't crazy, I don't know what is.” He has to joke. It's joke or throw up.

“You know what, Dean? I don't really care what you think.” Daniel stands. “I'm moving on to much more important things. Now that you've seen my latest piece of art,” he gestures to the husband, “I'm afraid to admit that I... need a new canvas now.”

Dean prepares for a fight. His shotgun is gone, but he's ready. He wants this bastard dead. Instead of coming for him, Daniel and his fucking blade go for Jo. Gotta protect the girl. Dean launches himself at Daniel, and is surprised that he actually connects. Daniel isn't as tough as he looks.

Dean fights clumsily but rough. Daniel doesn't seem to do so well under pressure. Dean gets a few solid punches in and manages to yank the blade out of Daniel's grasp. The two men fumble until the blade sinks into flesh. It's sharp and slides in effortlessly. Blood oozes from Daniel's stomach. Daniel's eyes are wide and shocked. He'd never expected it to go down like this.

Dean untangles himself from Daniel's quickly dying body. He feels weird and shaky. He glances over at Jo. She looks dead. She's covered with dirt and blood. It doesn't look like she's breathing.

“Fuck, Jo,” Dean gasps and takes her into his arms. He madly brushes off the muck on her face. She lays limp. “Come on, come on.” He jiggles her and she eventually coughs. “Jo,” he says.

“Dean?” She coughs again. “Untie me, please,” she asks weakly. Her voice is raspy.

He laughs. Not because it's particularly funny, but because if he doesn't he might just cry. He quickly unties her.

“Uh, Dean... I'm okay... Can you put me down now?” she says. If Jo didn't know any better, she would think Dean was blushing.

Dean's light mood disappears when he glances at Daniel's body. There's too much blood for him to still be alive, but Dean checks for a pulse anyways. There's no pulse. “Jo, I killed him,” he says.

“It's okay. He was a bad man,” she replies. Mark. Mark wasn't a bad guy. It was just the demon inside. She has no excuse.

Dean rubs at the stubble on his jaw line. “Doesn't matter. He was still human. We aren't supposed to be killing humans.” His eyes never leave the body.

Jo doesn't know what to say. “Come on Dean. The lady's husband is still alive. We gotta get back. Gotta take him to a hospital.” Anything but have this conversation.

“I guess so,” he says and lifts the husband up, carrying him fireman style. He heads in what he guesses is the right direction through the corn field, not waiting for Jo. Not even looking back. Jo feels sick and wishes she hadn't agreed to come along. She follows.

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Oncidium Orchid (4/10)

Sun, 13 May 2007 23:08:48 GMT

Title: Oncidium Orchid (4/?)
Rating: NC-17
Author: dustandluv
Characters: Jo/Dean, Sam
Summary: Jo and Dean hunt for Sam.
Warnings/Spoilers: Up to Born Under a Bad Sign
Author's Note: Sorry for taking such a long time with this chapter. It has totally been kicking my butt. I'm so excited for the next chapter though! It'll be a fun one, I promise. :)
Thank you to bloggybugg for being a great beta again! <3

Chapter Four: Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Previous Chapters: /1/2/3/

Ames, Iowa

“I messed up real bad,” Dean says to the answering machine. “Jo...” He sighs. “Call me as soon as you get this. Please.”

Duluth, Minnesota

While Dean's unconscious in his car, Jo's on the run. She needs to escape the guilt as well as the authorities. The rational side of her brain tells her that cops are useless and she'll never be connected to the murder. No one knew who she was. That particular fact doesn't help the sinking feeling in her stomach. She ditches her truck but puts the license plate and registration papers into her bag. She doesn't want to be traced. Then she goes by plane back to Duluth. She's not ready to go to her real home. Not yet.

The plane ride isn't too long, but the flight attendant reminds her to turn off her cell phone. She complies. It's not as if there's anyone to call her anyways.

She orders drink after drink. She knows she's had more than enough, but that doesn't stop her. Jo's life isn't going as perfectly as she hoped. So far, she's a shitty hunter, she misses her mom, she hurt Sam, she killed that Mark guy, and now Dean hates her. The alcohol doesn't help her forget much, but it does soften the razor edges.

It's not long before a man plops down onto the bar stool beside her. For a second she thinks it's Dean. Of course it's not, though. She smiles at him. He looks a little like Dean. When she half closes her eyes and tries to focus on him through her alcohol controlled mind, he looks a lot like Dean.

“Wanna dance?” he finally asks her. She nods and he leads her to the dance floor. Some new pop song is blaring and she just knows Dean would hate it, but she doesn't care what he thinks right now. She dances with the guy, really getting into it. Her hips move against his and his hands lower. Soon he's leading her out of the bar.

His hotel room is more than what she's used to. In any case, he leads her to the bedroom just like he lead her out of the bar and to his car. He's gentle, but she still doesn't like him. They kiss sitting on the bed- she knows she can't stand anymore. The kiss is empty. No passion, no heat. But she wants this.

He lifts up her shirt while she undoes his. He watches as she slides clumsily out of her tight jeans. He's already out of his pants. She isn't really sure when he had time to do that, but she's suddenly laying on the bed and he's on top. There's no foreplay and Jo doesn't care. She just wants this done with. He thrusts into her. He's not that great of a lay, but his enthusiasm kind of makes up for it. Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

When they're done and he's asleep, Jo cries for a little bit. She's disgusted with herself. Dirty. Unclean. She showers. It doesn't help much. She gets dressed and feels like a whore, putting on these tainted clothes. She wants to forget. She'd burn these clothes if she had enough to spare.

She finally remembers her cell phone. Pulling it out of the back pocket of her jeans, she turns it on. One missed call. One new voice message. She listens to the message. It's Dean.

“I messed up real bad. Jo... Call me as soon as you get this. Please.”

Her heart and head hurt. She leaves the hotel without waking the man up. She never even learned his name. She doesn't care.

Outside, she hesitates before calling Dean back. She's so fucked up now. She calls him anyways.

He picks up on the first ring. “Jo?”

“I messed up too, Dean.”

“God, Jo. Sam's gone. He played me. Again.” Dean's voice is so broken. She hopes he can't hear how broken she feels.

Jo has to comfort him. “It's okay. That demon is a smart one.”

“I'm heading to Illinois. You ready for a real hunt?”

Jo's heart stops. This is what she's always wanted, except it's always been the wrong place, wrong time. She's pretty sure it still is the wrong place, wrong time, but for different reasons now. “I don't know, Dean.” Too much left unsaid.

“Come to Iowa. We'll talk.”

Jo flies to Dean because Dean could never have the strength to fly to her. Jo's strong now.

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