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ScorpionsApprentice's Significant Otter

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#416D6E
#732727
                                    Life carried forth, just as it always had. Misery loved company that didn’t care, she’d learned. She was growing stronger by means of coping, weaker by means of caring. Few things brought a true smile to her face, nothing lit up her eyes as it had once. For all intents and purposes, she died. She couldn’t find the same desire she’d once held, her disconnect growing into a full blown severance. It intensified nearest him, and she acknowledged it with open arms. Sam was the first to lift, but Sawyer joined him very shortly thereafter. She grabbed for her bra, dragging it onto each arm and reaching her hands around to skillfully do it up from the back. “Djinn?” she stated, frowning momentarily as she slid her underwear back on and stood to face him. “They travel in packs?” At that, there was an arched brow. She didn’t know that. She’d never heard of packs. Pairs or trios, but a pack? That was odd.

                                    She grabbed her dress, frowning as she held it up and then tossing it aside. Her bag had only barely made the cut into the room, and as she grabbed it she felt grateful. She slid her jeans into place, grabbing a white tank top and drawing it over her slender frame. It hung loosely, just as she preferred it to. “Yeah, I’ll meet you there.” Minnesota. “Fargo it up.” She shook her head at the lame, wry joke and slid her bag onto her shoulder. She would shower later. “Go, I’ll check out.” As he made to pass, she stopped him for the first time in months. Her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips. “Thanks,” was all she said instead, revoking her hand and slipping by him into the bathroom. She was parched beyond belief, weary to the point of dizziness and still ready to jump right back on the road.

                                    And that she did. After checking out and stopping to grab a coffee Sawyer headed out of that tiny town. She cranked her music as loud as it would go, just to keep her mind alert as she sped up to meet Sam in Minnesota. As she pulled off to the side of the road near the meeting place, Sawyer stepped from the vehicle. She tucked a knife in her boot and her gun was pulled from the glove box to secure in the back of her jeans. Reason one for baggy shirts – nobody could make a damn thing out if you didn’t want them to.

                                    The Charger was there, and more than likely Sam was inside. She headed to the door, knocking upon it. Then again. “Sam!” she snapped. Momentarily, she listened as if waiting for the noise she hated very possibly most in the world. She didn’t hear it. Instead, there was a thud. Sawyer immediately grasped the handle and twisted, ramming her tiny body against it when it did nothing. “[********]” snarled Sawyer. She turned to the window next to it, hesitating only a moment before curling her fist forward.

                                    She didn’t punch it – really, she wasn’t that much of an idiot – but she did use her elbow. It didn’t leave her with many feel-goods as the glass shattered around her. Immediately, Sawyer ducked through the window. On the other side was a woman, standing over Sam with a sick smile on her face and glowing, beautifully creepy blue tattoos on her arms. Her eyes matched it. She turned to Sawyer, lunging forward.

                                    Sawyer ducked the first blow, knowing enough about djinn from her days and weeks spent researching absolutely anything apocalyptic in Bobby’s study. You learned a lot about a lot of everything when you were just reading everything. The back of her hair was immediately grasped and she was jerked against the frame of the window. The creepy djinn woman extended her glowing palm, and Sawyer immediately tore her weapon gun from its housing at the back of her jeans. She twisted back and away as the djinn dug her fingers into her jacket. “Think fast!” Sawyer stated as a towering figure jerked up, overcoming the djinn immediately. Sam managed to finish the job, and Sawyer frowned. He was off. Not totally ******** up, but… Off. “It got you,” she stated, expelling a breath. What did they do now?

                                    Apparently, they went to Samuel. Sam wanted to drive, Sawyer told him to ******** off. She directed him to the Camaro. “We can get the Charger later,” she stated, crawling inside. Sam would hallucinate, he would see s**t and go crazy. That, behind a wheel, was a bad idea. She drove fast enough, pulling into the compound and coming to a dead stop.

                                    “What happened?”

                                    “Djinn.”

                                    Samuel glanced to Sam, as if asking if he had done his job. Sawyer scowled, she knew something was up. “Did you get it?” The answer to that – on her end – was yes. The answer to Samuel’s true question was a very firm no. Enough was enough. When Sam was patched and ready, they regrouped. The Djinn from minnisota would be moving on, meaning they needed to figure out where next. Gwen and Christian were immediately on it, tracking the geeks while Sawyer folded her arms before Samuel and Sam. She glared from one to the other.

                                    “I have been playing errand girl for months. I run from one case to the next for you guys, do the stupid s**t you ask me to, and I think I deserve to know what is going on.”

                                    The information she learned then was astounding. Alphas, like… The first. First everything. They were stronger, faster, meaner and ten times more powerful. As if they’d assumed Sawyer would be out for the knowledge, they hadn’t told her. Maybe it was merely a lack of trust. Regardless, she proved herself as willing to help with this cause as any – mostly, probably, because they hadn’t let her in on the biggest secret. The Alphas weren’t to be killed. She was to help with the planning, with the keeping and catching.

                                    Over the next few weeks, she helped Gwen, Christian and Samuel with research. She went out to more than a few hunts with Sam. His birthday was better for her than it ever could have been for Dean – though she didn’t feel it. She screwed him, letting him take control more often than not. Their relationship was ********, maybe as well as she was that night. She had marks across her skin for days, but she didn’t complain. She never complained. The anniversary of Sam’s birth and demise was accomplished because she had him. Because she could cling to the fact that he was alive, even if he wasn’t really living.

                                    She was left behind on a hunt to Iowa, and the whole time she felt it start to come back. The severance turned to a disconnect turned to pain, all within three days. She hated it. She hated feeling like this. She wanted Sam back.

                                    But when he walked through the door, a limp body in her hands, her eyes flew wide.

                                    “[********, ********, ********]” she exclaimed, pointing at Dean. “What the [********], Sam?” She followed him as he moved to place Dean down in a room off to the side. His room. God. s**t. She immediately grabbed her bag, which had been stored there and was a dead giveaway. “I thought you were done with kidnapping people!” Yes, she was more frantic than she had been in… Months. Almost a year. She’d forgotten this emotion, how panic truly felt when something was crashing down around her. “He’s going to kill me.” The obvious answer was for her to leave. She knew it. But leaving was the wrong choice, especially when five minutes in, she was already starting to feel better. A sedative pushed through her very core that only one person could deliver, an appeasement to her agony. “Jesus—” she muttered, turning out of the room and grabbing her bra from two days ago, just to be extra safe. Dean didn’t know what her undergarments looked like, that sure as hell didn’t mean she needed him asking questions.

                                    Outside, with the others, she waited. Gwen was trying to calm her down, cracking jokes and acting like an idiot. Christian joined in the boat until Sawyer flipped them both off. This was going to be bad. This was going to be really bad. And yet, as the two hour mark passed... She barely even gave a s**t.

ScorpionsApprentice's Significant Otter

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#732727
#416D6E
                                    ❝xxDean didn’t push Jo one way or the other. She was upset about Sawyer’s reaction, and that was understandable, he… Supposed. He’d recognized that the brunette was better, but he couldn’t sense her internally like Jo could. The way Jo said she didn’t want a big fancy wedding made Dean think there was more pulsing beneath the surface than he’d expected.

                                    May 2, 2011.

                                    To call it the second worst day Dean could have possibly imagined himself surviving was an understatement. Thankfully, Jo had prepared for this. She didn’t come downstairs when he took the books and dug through them, tearing out every page that was useless to him. Rage filtered, alcohol pumped through his body, and more than once he beat on Baby (he’d regret it later when he had to fix her). He blamed himself, hated everything that had happened. The worst [******** part of it all was that he couldn’t fix it. Once upon a time, Dean would have made a deal with a demon or asked an angel for aid. He couldn’t do that! He couldn’t do a goddamn ******** thing. His brother was rotting because he failed him. He saved the world and got what? Nothing out of the deal. Jo suffered because of him, Sawyer suffered because of him, and Dean was a useless chunk of meat hocked onto the planet to try and survive like every other useless chunk of meat. He was infuriated, lost, heartbroken and it felt like there was no coming up for air from this one. A complete year. He’d left his brother to rot for a full calendar and nothing was bringing him back.

                                    That day didn’t leave him feeling well, not by any means. He drank more than he had in months thereafter, even after the day was over. It was midway through the week that he was, shockingly, invited on a fishing expedition with a few of the guys from James’ construction business. Carl, Jim and Luke were the ones heading the expedition, Carl being the only one with a wife and two kids at home. “This gonna be one of those ‘fishing’ trips that turns into a Vegas weekend complete with strippers? ‘Cause, and believe you me I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, I’m getting married… Sometime.”

                                    “Nah, man! This is gonna be a real fishing trip. Luke’s uncle has a cabin out by Storm Lake. Totally worth it, dude,” pressed Jim with a nod.

                                    “Dude, that’s what you said about golfing,” Dean retorted easily.

                                    “Yeah, and you love it now! C’mon, man. Your old lady can let you go for a weekend, can’t she? May long. Think about it.”

                                    Dean mentioned it to Jo, and she was… Surprisingly okay with it. He shouldn’t have been so amazed, but for a moment he… kind of was. After the last week, he assumed she wouldn’t want him out of his sight. Instead, she borderline insisted he go, with a very valid (though funny) quip about what men did in their spare time. “So basically an ordinary day,” Dean responded in an almost challenging fashion. He thanked her with a kiss. Once again, their sex life had fallen off the rails, only due to the fact that his abrupt fall into the pit alongside his brother made him… Less than inclined.

                                    The morning he was to leave, he tucked her hair away from her face and drew her in by the cup of her cheek to kiss her more fervently before releasing her and patting Will on the head. There was a honk outside, indicating his ride had arrived. Dean bounded down the steps and waved briefly to his family before hopping in the car. Off they went, down the sunshiny concrete road toward their destination. Not nearly as dramatic as the Wizard of Oz, but it would do. They arrived in a timely fashion, and Dean withheld the view for several seconds. Trees lined the lakeside, the cabin itself was expansive and gorgeous and it was all around… The kind of place Dean felt he needed to be right now. An oasis on a desert island, that which being his mind.

                                    “Awesome, isn’t it?” asked Carl with a grin. Dean nodded.

                                    “Yeah, awesome.”

                                    “Kelly and Leann are here,” stated Jim as he waved the two sultry blondes in. Goddamn it.

                                    Dean turned to glare at his friend immediately. “Damn it, Jim!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “Jo’ll kill me.”

                                    “Chill out, McCoy. They’re not here for you,” Jim stated, smiling as Kelly and Leann moved forward. Kelly was wearing jeans, Leann was far more inappropriately clad (though… attractive) in her short, tight denim skirt. Jo was seriously going to divorce him before it was even possible. Leann smiled, moving toward him and shaking his hand in greeting. Dean didn’t really know how important that handshake would be.

                                    They spent the rest of the afternoon unpacking and drinking, it was around five when Dean started to hear something odd. A woman, out back, screamed. Immediately, he jumped up and went to his own bag to fetch his gun. He headed out and past the driveway. Marks clawed into a tree. s**t. He moved again, pressing past it with anxiety pulsing up through his veins. He was off his game here, rusty as all hell. He didn’t know what he was doing, anyway. Protecting his friends? Sure. That was a good answer. Sam would kill him if he knew. He saw another tree with identical markings and rounded the corner, gun drawn as he heard a rustle in the brush. Spinning around, Dean aimed his weapon. Kelly looked up, screeching as she wound her arm around herself to cover her exposed chest. Luke cursed him out and Dean’s brows hiked high upon his chest. “Dean! What the ********?! Is that a gun?!”

                                    “Uh… I thought… There are wolves, you know. Around… Here,” he stated, nodding his head as if that were an acceptable answer.

                                    Luke frowned. “No there aren’t.”

                                    “Bears… Coyotes… I don’t know. Carry on,” he stated, nodding his head to Kelly as he hurriedly turned and headed back up the hill toward the cabin.

                                    Strange dreams captivated him that night, things he hadn’t thought about in months. Not really. Guns, knives, Wendigo’s, Rugaru’s, Werewolves and Shifters. They were all coming at him. Dean woke with a start, a frown already rigid on his face as the day began. When his friends went out on the first expedition (and after he received a great glare from Kelly and Luke), Dean stayed behind. Something was off here. It was in the doorway to the house that he got his first real clue, his eyes shifting down to the yellow paste at the base of the way. Crouching, he dipped his finger into it. Sulfur. Not good. When Dean lifted, he was face-to-face with a thing he had certainly killed. Bright, luminescent, terrifying yellow eyes stared him down, a wicked smile on his lips.

                                    “Hi’ya, Dean. Look what the apocalypse shook loose?”

                                    Dean reeled back, away from the creature that had killed his father, mother and infected his brother. “You’re not real. You can’t be real!”

                                    “Oh yes, I sure can!” Azazel taunted with a grin as he approached Dean. Dean backed off another step. He grabbed at his gun, which he’d collected this morning after the incident yesterday. Something had been here, now he knew the something was fifty times worse than he’d expected. He denied Azazel again, but the demon cackled. “Yeah, kiddo. The big daddy brought your pal Cas back, right? So why not me? Add a little spice to all that… Sugar.”

                                    Everybody was gone, making this the perfect place for Dean to die. He pulled his gun, firing at Azazel and hitting him square in the shoulder. There were no repercussions on the demon’s side. [********]! Fear spiked through Dean, straight alongside the pit of hatred he felt for the demon. “Really? After all we’ve been through together? You know, you’ve got a real great little life going on. Sexy monster – real patient and understanding. Hell of a kid. Your own little chop shop. I mean, come on, Dean. You’ve never been what I’d call brainy, but did you really think you were gonna get to keep it all? You had to know we were coming for you sometime, pal. You can’t outrun your past.” As he snarled the final word, Azazel leaned forward and gripped Dean’s throat, pinning him down against the sofa and jamming him into it. With his airways cut off, and the rust on his hunting boots, Dean wasn’t able to escape. He was blacking out slowly, but very surely… Until an unknown hero came to his rescue.

                                    Hours later, Dean woke. The smell here was different, dank and wet. It was darker, too, and confusion overtook Dean. Where was he? Some kind of demon hold? Azazel had been killing him… Maybe he was dead. When words spouted from across the room, Dean’s eyes shot to his brother. He paused, but his face fell instead of lifting. “So I’m dead? This is Heaven? Yellow Eyes killed me, and now—” Sam cut him off, earning an incredulous look from Dean, alongside the word ‘saw’? Poisoned, apparently, hallucinating. Things weren’t real. Sam wasn’t real. Of course he wasn’t. This was all some big game. Dean had to be sure. “So, then, are you… real? Or am I still…”

                                    Sam was real. Really, really real. Holy water, salt, silver, the whole nine. Dean didn’t know what to think. His emotions swirled, but one stuck its head up above the rest. Gratitude, happiness, his brother… Sam… He was alive. He was alive. “Sammy?” he asked as he lifted to his feet. Yes, it was. Sam. His brother. Alive. Dean almost cried – truly – as he threw his arms around his brother in a tight embrace. Finally, he reeled back to ask more pressing questions. “Wait a minute, wait a minute… You were… You were gone, man. I mean that – that was… It,” the word was choked, as was every other one he’d managed to date. “How the hell are you—” Sam didn’t know. Dean asked how, and Sam reiterated. Super helpful. “Well, was it God or – or… Or Cas? I mean, does Cas know anything about it?”

                                    The word weeks was like a bullet. “Wait, weeks? How long have you been back?” When his brother didn’t immediately answer, Dean pressed again. “How long have you been back, Sam?”

                                    A year. If weeks had been a bullet, Dean didn’t know what to think about this. He choked on the pain that writhed within, the loss, the sheer abandonment. His brother had chosen not to come back to him for a year? “About a year?” Dean asked, incredulously. Before Sam could charge in to defend himself, Dean felt the rage bubbling up. “You been back practically this whole time?!” Hurt radiated in his tone alongside the complete betrayal his brother had incurred within him. Alive or not, he should have called. Texted. “What, did you lose the ability to send a ******** text message?!” he snarled.

                                    Had what he wanted. God, if he heard that s**t again. “I wanted my brother, alive!” Dean snapped. Sam went on a tangent, one that Dean couldn’t bring himself to believe thoroughly – despite the fact that it was true. “What have you been doing?” he asked, trying to funnel down the rage and filter out the shock. He wanted to be involved now. Now. He wanted his brother to be okay. Hunting. Hunting?! What the [********]!? “You left me alone and you were flying solo?!”

                                    Not solo. There were others. Strangers. [********] strangers, Sam should have come to him. Dean glowered at his brother as the man led him out to meet the ‘Family’ as Sam put it. The moment he stepped out, he was greeted by a pretty brunette. “My God, you have delicate features for a hunter.”

                                    “Excuse me?”

                                    Sam introduced Gwen. She reminded him of someone else, happy and carefree while being deadly in the same breath. At least, she used to be that way. Christian was introduced, and finally, the name clicked. “Cam-Campbell? Like…”

                                    “Like your mom,” a familiar voice stated, moving into view. She tipped her head, swallowing heavily as her darkened gaze snapped away from Dean to Sam. There was a look shared between them, but all Dean could feel was… betrayal. A second round of it. “Hi, Dean.”

                                    “Rhodes?”

                                    She stayed in place, as if she were waiting for the inevitable. “How long… How long?” Dean snarled lowly across the room at her. Everything else was overwhelming, but she was obviously something he could control. Something he knew.

                                    “Just before Christmas.”

                                    Dean stalled out. Just before Christmas… Just before… “When you came to the Roadhouse?” Sawyer nodded tersely. “When you came and we kept you there? You didn’t say a ******** word?”

                                    “Guys—”

                                    “Shut the hell up. You didn’t tell me my brother was alive?” Sawyer swallowed, her eyes never wavering from his face. Her breathing labored ever so slightly, but it was the only indication from where he stood that she was emotional. “What the ********, Sawyer? What the ******** gives you the right to decide that?”

                                    “I tried to tell you!” she snapped in response. “You told me to shut the hell up and leave my s**t at the door! I did. I didn’t bring it up, I didn’t talk about it.”

                                    Dean paused, glaring harshly. “This isn’t some bullshit rainy day issue, Rhodes. This is my family!” he snapped again. “So, what, you two were living your merry little hunting life while I was out of the loop—”

                                    “[******** you,” Sawyer snarled abruptly. Dean’s steely eyes lingered on her, lip twitching by means of threat. “We broke up.”

                                    Well, the kicks in the gnads never quite stopped coming. Dean frowned, arching one brow as he blinked repetitively. “Sorry, you… You broke up? So that gave you a case of the mouth-be-closeds?” There was no getting through to him like this. “That’s why you were such a ******** wreck, wasn’t it? Wow. This is just… This is just ******** awesome.”

                                    Sawyer didn’t move, but her discomfort was showing more clearly when Samuel finally broke through the silence. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need a second with my grandsons.” Dean’s eyes flicked up to meet the man and he felt it again. Another boot right in the feel goods. Samuel. Alive? Samuel wasn’t ******** alive! What the hell was this s**t.

rhapsody of armageddon's Significant Otter

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    Sammy - Man Who Has No Soul
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                                  Sam charged forward, and head on. He picked up the trail Samuel had to abandon, and followed it to its end rather quickly. The fact that Djinn's were changing their hunting pattern was noteworthy, and Sam briefly noted there were a lot of odd things cropping up lately. He had his blade, dipped in lamb's blood, and he stalked into the place. Only... there was no one in there. He looked everywhere. Checked every corner, listened to every creak. There was nothing, which miffed Sam a little because the trail had been so solid. Perhaps too solid, he realized.

                                  When he retreated back to a motel room and checked in, he texted Sawyer to let her know where he'd ended up. Good thing, too, because he got a surprise visit by a dark-haired beauty. She was nothing but deadly as she came swinging into the room, all brawn and no stealth. She was out for blood, and Sam was quick to evade her claws, but he needed to get in close to land his own hits. Kicking her with a long leg was an obvious choice so he could get to the knife he'd stored away in his bag. She recovered quickly though, and as he pulled the knife out, she got a hand on him. The initial pump of the venom was jarring. He got dizzy from the potent amount, and it didn't help she kneed him in the side.

                                  He knocked into the end table, and Sawyer came crashing in through the window. Bleary eyed, Sam blinked between the haze and the distortion starting to come from what would soon be some wicked hallucinations. They were scuffling, and Sam's fingers gripped tighter around the blade. Instinct brought him up, and the minute the djinn was knocked to the ground, he plunged the soaked blade into it. He staggered up, bracing a palm against the bed to keep his balance as he squinted unfocused eyes and shook his head. If he could just get the film away. He was determined he could, but it was obvious after Sawyer had gotten them into the Camaro and toward Samuel that he was worse than it seemed.

                                  His eyes became slightly milky, the color fading as he was dragged down into a trance-like state of hallucinations. It was brief, the dose working through his system not being the most powerful. He remained sluggish though, not really capable of forming words - not that he wanted to talk. By the time they reached the compound, he felt like he was at the point of passing out for the first time since returning. He managed a weary shake of his head when Samuel asked if they got it. They didn't get anything from that one. Samuel, having left to stock up on the very thing he needed, came back with the antidote for the poison. Ever since they'd been going against the biggest and baddest, Samuel had been looking for cheats. Cures, antidotes, immunities. Anything that could even remotely help, he was packing these days. Or at least had a means of getting it.

                                  Sam felt much better quickly, and after talking a new strategy and fully indoctrinating Sawyer into their club, Sam went back for his Charger. They met up with Gwen and Christian, and picked up the trail of the Djinn again. Other cases came up, and they'd detour for them, but Sam's focus was on the Djinn. It wasn't often he was bested like that, and he needed to see this through to make it right. He needed to find this Alpha and take it down, and that's exactly what he'd do. He took his frustration out on Sawyer in bed, and picked right back up with the case the moment he was done showing the shred of emotion he didn't know why he felt. It was a ghost of something worse he'd suffered from a long time ago.

                                  When he finally found the Djinn up by a cabin near Storm Lake, the case took an unexpected turn. These Djinn had been after Dean, and he wasn't quite sure why at first. Out of everyone there, he had been the only one infected (so far), and Sam actually didn't have time to go after the actual culprits. He was alone in the cabin when he found his brother, already fully succumbed under too much poison. The others were out at the lake or on a hike. None of them had seen him come, and they wouldn't see him leave as he dragged Dean's body up and carried him off. He gave him the antidote in the car, and drove off with him to the abandoned house he was squatting at in town.

                                  Why? He didn't quite know. It was the first time he'd seen his brother up and close since returning, and he couldn't just leave him. Not when Dean might have information on who the Djinn was, or why it was after him. Sawyer was quick to accuse him as he laid Dean down on the bed he'd been using. Frowning, he shot her a look. "What was I supposed to do? Just leave him there with that thing still running around?" he asked her, because no he hadn't killed or captured it on account that his brother almost died. Sawyer left, and Sam sighed a little as he wandered over to the table to sit and wait. When Dean did wake, Sam offered a practiced smile and a few light words to try and ease the tension. Dean assumed he was dead, which... Sam guessed he could understand.

                                  "Yellow eyes? That's what you saw?" Sam asked, sounding intrigued. He actually was. That was an odd place for his hallucination to take him to. His had brought him to the desert. "You were poisoned. So whatever kind of crazy crap you think you been seeing, it's not real," he explained, until Dean extended that to him. That actually got him to laugh a little. "I'm real. Here, let me save you the trouble. All me," he assured as he went through the same dance he had Bobby and Sawyer. There was the hug, and Sam rose to greet it the way he should.

                                  The questions came soon after, and Sam was honest about them. He still didn't know, hadn't spoken to Cas, and had given up after a few weeks. That sparked an entirely different conversation, and one far more irate than they had been having. Over a year. Yep. He'd been back the whole time, and Sam offered the same argument he always did. "You finally had what you wanted, Dean," Sam said, unfazed by the outburst. "You wanted a family. You have for a long time, maybe the whole time. I know you. You only gave it up because of the way we lived. But you had something, and you were building something. Had I shown up, Dean, you would have just run off. I'm sorry. But it felt like after everything, you deserve some regular life."

                                  "You weren't alone," Sam snapped when Dean berated him further, and glowering, Sam added, "and I'm not either. I hooked up with some people. Family, and they're here." Apparently, they had been eavesdropping. Gwen was all over Dean the moment they stepped out of the room, and he gave her a scathing look. Now was not the time to push buttons. This was already more than he put up with on a daily basis, and for a reason. It was a waste of time. It all just blew up when Sawyer made herself known, and Sam wiped his hand over his mouth in frustration as Dean's gasket started to blow.

                                  Just before Christmas. That was a lie, and he almost gave it away (lucky he was a robot). She'd known since August, but Sam didn't think that was a good idea to bring up. She probably had her reasons for lying, so he didn't see why he should burst her bubble. Why was them being broken up relevant? He was starting to get whiplash with all of these emotions, but luckily Samuel came in to break it up.

                                  "Lot of resurrections in your face today. It's all right. Take a minute,"[/color ]the man said calmly once everyone had left. His knuckles were braced against the dusty table as he watched Dean intently, the almost pitying condescend there underneath the surface as he watched a lesser man unravel. He didn't have much patience for civilians; that's what his kids were for. When Dean started asking the right questions, he answered more easily to catch the older Winchester up to speed.

                                  "As far as we know, it's Samuel, and it's me," Sam said. Why them two? They didn't know that either, and neither of them thought it was a good thing. How could it be? Sam had thought that from day one, especially with how twisted he was inside. Dean didn't need to know that though. What he did need to know was, after so long of being kept in the dark, how he was finally dragged back in. "I got hit before you did, few days ago. Dosed up with poison. Couple of djinn."

rhapsody of armageddon's Significant Otter

Desirable Lunatic

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And if I'm lost ¯`·.·• ☪ ☪ ☪ •·.·´¯ in the world's shadows

I'll use the light that `•·.·´ ☪ ☪ ☪ `·.·•´ comes to me from your halo




                                      Jo had a lot on her mind that weekend while Dean was away. Meredith called to let her know she was getting ready to go to court. She needed a psychiatric assessment to assure she was stable, but then she'd be able to take Will back. It was bittersweet, both incredibly heartening and gut-wrenchingly sad all at once. Jo congratulated her aunt for getting this far, and wished her luck before she joined Will for cartoons. She took him to the park. The weather was warm and perfect, though it was still wet out after a storm a few days ago. He got muddied up, and she hosed him down outside with a laugh, before carrying him up the stairs to get properly cleaned up.

                                      James came over after the Roadhouse was open for a few hours. He brought his Wii, and set it up in their living room to play with Will upstairs for awhile while Jo worked. It was a busy night. Now that the weather was warmer, more and more people were wandering outside. She would have to look into expanding it. She played a game of pool for an easy 300 bucks; she still hustled from time to time when she felt like it. Most people who knew her wouldn't play her, but there were always newcomers.

                                      She brought the cash upstairs, and checked on the boys. They were eating a dinner of chicken nuggets, and Jo snorted at the way their eyes were glued to the screen. She left James a brew from downstairs, and Will wrinkled his nose at it comically before he checked James' character to take the lap.

                                      "Oh, you little cheat!" James grunted, earning a mischievous, high-pitched giggle from Will. When she went back downstairs, she texted Dean a quick Hey. Hope the fish are biting. Miss you. Back behind the bar, she looked up to see a face she hadn't seen in a long time.

                                      "Harvelle," Rufus offered her with a nod. Her brows rose, but she instantly bent behind the counter to pull up a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and a glass. She set both down before the hunter. He cheersed her with the empty glass, his other hand winding around the bottle as he lifted from the stool. "When you've got a minute, come find me," he requested huskily, before he sauntered off to find a more secluded part of the bar, which happened to be the table along the wall he always sat at when he came in. Frowning, Jo's eyes followed after him. This was the first time since he'd confessed she was in the clear that he'd requested to speak with her like this. Usually, he just wanted to pass through, asked a quick you got anything for me, and then left to go chat with another hunter briefly. He drank a little, took his bottle, and then left.

                                      A semi-private meeting? That couldn't bode well, and Jo suddenly felt a little antsy. Dean wasn't here, and she suddenly desperately wished that he was. She wasn't going to be a baby about this though and call him home. This kitty still had claws, and god damn it she hadn't forgotten how to use them. She could do this, so when she found a moment where her staff wasn't overwhelmed and things were relatively a blur for her patrons, Jo set her rag down on the table, took off her apron, and sauntered over toward Rufus to see what the old goat wanted.

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                                    Mess, mess, mess. Sawyer blew out a breath, stammering as she brought cooled hands up to cover her face. Christmas. Why Christmas? It had come out before she’d thought about it, before she’d cared to think about it. She had known almost the whole time. The whole [********] time. Christmas had just been when she managed to break through her pain for the first time, stop suffering in it for ten seconds and make the first real push. Dean had managed to shake her, something not witnessed by the others in the last few months, since she’d started sleeping with the man she could no longer find the capacity to love and yet couldn’t turn away from. She knew it sounded better, made her less of a fraud than what she was. She massaged her temples as Gwen turned to look at her with a light hook in her lip.

                                    “So… You and my cousin…” she began, quickly arching her brow. “You two were—”

                                    “Shut up,” retorted Sawyer aggressively. She was trembling.

                                    “I swear, one more person tells me to—”

                                    “Hey Gwen? Shut up,” interjected Christian with a grin. Gwen shoved him, nearly over, and Sawyer lifted her gaze to glare them both down. Liar, liar, fake, fraud, chanted Jo’s voice over, and over again. She was hearing the berating words in preparation for the next bought. Door’s not open anymore, sugar. “But seriously, you mean to say Sam wasn’t always a rampaging douche?” he said it as if he were fond of the person Sam was, despite the dickish exterior (and interior). “He had a thing. For you?”

                                    “Christian, do you like your balls where they are?” Christian nodded, tilting his head as if to say of course. “Good. Shut the ******** up or I’ll move them into your throat. You too,” she added, snapping to Gwen. Logic didn't matter, the purpose had been to make them go away.

                                    At that, Christian rolled his eyes. He and Gwen danced off into the darkness, neither really all that fazed by the aggression from the brunette. Sawyer exhaled a heavy breath from Sawyer as she bent her head forth and grasped at her head with her hands. She hadn’t felt this unnerved in a long time, and that was saying something. The fact that she was feeling anything past empty was saying more than the rest, though. Jesus, what had she done? Dean was never going to forgive her, she was never going to see Jo again… God. “s**t,” she whispered, pulling her hand up to run it across her lips. Her hands were still shaking when the door opened again. Dean looked more frantic, and Sawyer jerked up, eyes flicking from one brother to the other. God, this felt like a really bad flashback.

                                    “We have to check on Jo and Will—” Samuel explained. Dean already had the phone in his hand, dialing for Jo. As long as she didn’t leave the Roadhouse, it would be fine. It would all be fine.

                                    “I was there when Jo developed the place,” Sawyer stated, shaking her head. “Nothing supernatural is getting in without getting burned.” Her excluded.

                                    “Yeah, well we need to make sure – or do you have somethin’ you’re hidin’ about that, too?” Dean snapped. “You said the things were comin’ after me. There’s no better way than to get to her and Will, first.”

                                    Sawyer tipped her head, it was almost compassionate, except she went rigid again and closed her eyes. She nodded. Dean didn’t appear grateful that she was joining their little expedition, but it had been made clear that she was a part of this team. She wasn’t getting out of it, and as Gwen moved toward her and called shotgun, Sawyer rolled her eyes. She followed the woman outside at a jogging pace and hopped into the Camaro, the other hunter jumping into the other side immediately. Yeah, she was part of this team. The only issue was that she missed her old team.

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#732727
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                                    ❝xxThe word ‘nope’ was pretty high on Dean’s list of favorites at present. Take a minute. “It’s gonna take a little more than a minute. I mean… What the hell? How did this happen?” Dean inquired frantically. Two deceased relatives standing before him… This was more than Twilight Zone. Dean wasn’t sure what he felt. Mad, hurt, happy, lost, dazed – there were a lot of freakin’ emotions swirling around right now!

                                    “We’re guessing whatever pulled Sam up pulled me down. So, whatever this is, we’re both a part of it,” Samuel explained. Kind of.

                                    “But you don’t know what that is.” Bingo, Samuel even said so. “And you have no leads, nothing? Well this is, uh… this… There’s no more doornails coming out of that door, is there?” Dean asked, glancing at the two. Two who shouldn’t have been there. Samuel and Sam. That was it. The new S Team. Great, he had a Sam-Slam. “Okay… And am I the only one here that… That thinks this can’t just all be fine?” Sawyer seemed to be on the ‘fine’ train, at least from where he was standing.

                                    “Believe me, you’re not. I wanted to come get you, of course. Sam was adamant about leaving you out – to all of us – so we did. Until this.” Samuel grimaced. “We didn’t have much choice when you became a target.”

                                    Sam had been hit by a Djinn, the Djinn decided it wanted to go after Dean… Tracked him to Iowa? That was a stretch. Unless it was also a ploy. A threat. Dean couldn’t be sure, but how had they gotten that conniving? Apparently Sam had an explanation for that, too. He had a lot of those, but none that included how he’d arrived back up from the pit. The conversation progressed, not really giving any indication as to how or why they were after him. Dean decided it best just to ask, he was tired of doing circles.

                                    “Well, you did stake one a while back,” Samuel explained cavalierly. Seriously? They were coming at him because they’d staked one? Man, Djinn were douchebags. Sam continued, and Dean froze.

                                    If they were gunning for him and Sam, there were other ways to get to them. “Jo and Will… They’re at the Roadhouse. If that thing could find me at Lake Storm…” The explanation was that the Roadhouse was safe, Sawyer had explained its construction to Sam a while back. Besides that, good luck to anything that tried to attack mama Succubus or her small child. They’d also sent one of their outside sources, Johnny, to keep an eye on them. Dean didn’t care. It was funny, Dean presently didn't care about the buddies he'd left at Lake Storm, either. Only one person mattered. “You’ve got to take me home right now.”

                                    Dean immediately darted out, pulling out his phone. There was a text message from her on the screen that made his stomach drop harshly. Hurriedly, he switched to calling, dialing the first number. Her cell. It went to voicemail. She was probably working, she never really held the thing close by if she was working. Dean tried home, he knew somebody would be up there with Will. As he was calling, Sawyer tried to explain that they’d be fine. Dean shot her down as James picked up. “James! Thank god. Hey, is Jo around?”

                                    “Yeah, man. She’s downstairs. I’m gettin’ whooped up here by your kid—”

                                    “You’ve gotta take the phone to her.” Closing time was in an hour. Jo had to stay inside. Stay. Inside. “I need to talk to her. Now.” He should have called the Roadhouse phone, but he needed to know Will was safe, too. Home seemed like the best bet to find out both sources of information.

                                    “Sure… Everything good, Dean?”

                                    For a moment, Dean didn’t answer. “Just give the phone to my wife, James.” Technically they weren’t married, but that didn’t seem to matter. Dean hadn’t called her by the word yet, now seemed as good a time as ever. Besides, fiancée was pretty Frou-Frou.

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And if I'm lost ¯`·.·• ☪ ☪ ☪ •·.·´¯ in the world's shadows

I'll use the light that `•·.·´ ☪ ☪ ☪ `·.·•´ comes to me from your halo




                                      Jo slipped into the seat she'd occupied before, and Rufus looked down to her empty hands, pursing his lips. "Not drinkin' this time?"

                                      "Not sure what I'd be drinkin' to," Jo said, quirking her brow. Rufus grunted, realizing that was a no. He sighed, taking another gulp of the alcohol that he savored on his tongue. Jo waited, watching him carefully as he opened his cold black eyes to regard her. Conspiringly, he leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table. "The world out there is getting weird," he murmured to her. It was Jo's turn to purse her lips, and with a furrowed brow, she looked from his folded hands to his face again.

                                      "How do you mean?"

                                      "I mean I killed a preta a few weeks ago, and a yeti in Maine."

                                      "A yeti? But that-"

                                      "Neither of them are supposed to be here," Rufus cut her off impatiently, imploring her with his eyes to understand. She sat back in her chair, though her chin was still dipped down to the table in thought.

                                      "You telling me monsters are doing some kind of weird foreign exchange program?" Jo murmured, gaze flickering up as a few people mindlessly passed them by.

                                      "I'm tellin' word down the grapevine is the world of monsters is getting stranger than ever. They're turnin' people like its a frenzy, changing their hunting patterns, and more than one hunter has fallen in the last few months," he grumbled, fingers pointed and palms flat as he tapped on the table in his frustration. Jo didn't know what to say. She wasn't entirely sure she believed him, but then again, she hadn't been in the game for over a year. What did she really know by this point?

                                      "Joey," James called, causing killer instincts to perk up - they were set on mother mode, and James being down her could mean something was wrong with Will. She shot up in her chair, but James crossed the room to pass over the house phone. "It's Dean."

                                      "Hold that thought," Jo said, pulling a finger up by means of asking Rufus to wait, before she slowly pushed her way away from the table. "James, is Will still up?" Jo asked, and the sheepish look from James gave him away before he could fully turn around and bolt for the stairs. "It's one in the ******** morning for Christ's sake! Get him into bed now. I swear to God, worst ******** babysitter in the- Dean?" Jo asked once she got into the kitchen where it was a little quieter. Her voice had gone from mother rage mode to soft and concerned in the span of a syllable. "What's wrong?"

                                      He was panicked, abrasive... that was never a good sign. She could swear she felt it through the phone as he warned her of the situation. "Djinn? How many?" A pack. A pack, she repeated it like she didn't understand, but Dean was imploring her to stay inside and she agreed to easily enough. He was on his way home. "We'll be fine. Rufus is here. I'll ask him to look into it. Just get here in one piece."

                                      When she walked back into the bar off the phone, she paused next to Rufus' table with a hard look in her eyes. "Let's say I do believe you. I've got one question. Why did you tell me all of this?" she demanded. Smirking, Rufus leaned back in his chair, propping his head against his hand cavalierly.

                                      "You know why," he said simply, nearly causing Jo to hiss.

                                      "I'm out." Jo snapped. Not to mention she had a dependent getting put to bed upstairs. "And on that note, there might be a case in town. Pack of Djinn. You seen anything?"

                                      "No, but... don't you think odd case like that is right up your alley?" Rufus dared. The glare he earned from Jo had him raising his hands in surrender, though as he rose and reached out for his bottle he added, "Just sayin', might be time for the world to have a monster of monsters again." With that, he left a fifty on the table and left to go inspect Jo's potential Djinn problem. Jo huffed indignantly as she watched him leave, before she shook her head and sauntered off to prepare for closing. She would probably have to ask James to stay until Dean got back if he didn't end up leaving with the last call crowd. Frowning, Jo bit onto her lip as she opened the back door, and without stepping foot outside, shouted for last call to the idiots partying by the fire pit.

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    Sammy - Man Who Has No Soul
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                                  "These... look like regular people. They can blend in, and all they got to do to kill you is touch you. Their toxins get in your system, all of a sudden you're hallucinating your worst nightmares, and pretty soon you OD," Sam explained to his brother. It was scary, how quickly they had evolved, but luckily, Samuel knew more than any other hunter he'd ever met. He had a cure.

                                  "I know a few things. Stick around, I'll show you tricks your daddy never even dreamed of," he said confidently. Why were they after the boys? Apparently, they held a grudge. It seemed far fetched, but it was a working theory. The monsters were coming out for a little payback all over the place; this was no different. Dean was quick to worry about his family, which made Sam frown. He'd already thought of that, and sent over a local hunter to watch out for them. Not to mention, he knew first hand how deadly Jo could be - a secret he'd keep for as long as it suited him - and they didn't even know Rufus was around too.

                                  Dean didn't want to hear any of it, not even how the Roadhouse was a safe haven from anything supernatural. Apparently, normal life made him crazy. Love made him crazy, reckless and impulsive. This is why it's better not to feel, Sam reckoned. He was always rational. That was a good thing in this line of work. Sam was reluctant, but he followed after his brother slowly as they left the house. Dean was already calling Jo as they climbed into the Camaro, Samuel setting himself in the back as Sawyer towed the others. He glanced toward his brother warily as he conversed with Jo.

                                  He wasn't sure he wanted to see her. Sawyer and Dean were one thing. They let him get away with things, they wanted him to be okay. They were blind by their love of him, and willing to succumb to any level of manipulation he could come up with. Jo? She was like a needle in his side. Caring as she was, she was detached. She hadn't let him get away with his s**t before he died, and he highly doubted she would now... especially once she knew. Not only was she observational, but she was an emotional bloodhound as well. She could sense a monster in a room full of people, dig emotions up from the darkest crevices of a soul. He didn't want her poking into him and outing him to his brother before he even had a chance to mend what he needed to. She'd know quicker than anybody how very off things were with him, and no faux smile or lie would be able to undo it.

                                  She was a threat to him, so Sam stayed silent during most of the racing drive they made to Nebraska. He was thinking of how to get out of this sticky situation without confronting the blonde. Luckily, the answer came to him. The Roadhouse was closed by the time they arrived, and it was the dead of night. Only a single car was left in the parking lot, and that happened to be Johnny's. He was dead in his driver's seat. Sam checked the body, and his gaze flickered over the surrounding area. The Roadhouse itself looked fine; nothing supernatural could break in.

                                  Instead of going inside to check the happy family, Sam wandered off. He, Christian, and Samuel took up perimeter defense. They scoped the area, looking for the culprits who offed another hunter. There was nothing, though. "These things are the slipperiest ********] Sam cussed, huffing in exasperation. Months. He'd been after them for almost two months, and they still had nothing! He was starting to get a little ticked off.

                                  "Should we go back? Regroup?"

                                  "You guys go. I'm just gonna... look into town. They have to be staying somewhere nearby if they're trying to weasel their way in from the side, right?"

                                  "There a reason you wanna go off on this one solo again?" Samuel asked skeptically. Sam shook his head.

                                  "I just don't think hanging around the apple pie will help us solve this case. And Dean's... gonna want to ease his family into this. I doubt they want a whole pack of hunters trudging through their lives."

                                  "Uh huh. And.. don't you think his brother should be the one actually trudging through?" Sam gave Samuel a weary look, and the older hunter grunted. "Fine. I'll go with you. Maybe it's better they don't see the dead until the danger's out of the way, yeah?"

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#416D6E
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                                    By the time they arrived, Dean was half on his way to being a wreck. He moved for the front door while Sawyer and Gwen split off, Sawyer taking the back, Gwen taking the front doorway. Sawyer jogged around the side of the building, gun low. Meanwhile, Dean charged into the Roadhouse calling, “Jo!” The fact that it was past one and his kid was asleep meant little when he just needed to see her for the sake of reassurance. Sawyer rounded the back corner, blowing out a breath. Dean halted his steps when he heard her call, charging for the doorway and shoving it open. Jo was outside, cleaning up following last call. “The hell did you not understand about stay inside?” he exclaimed, moving to grasp her biceps and draw her into a tight embrace regardless. Jo wasn’t defenseless, she wasn’t some fairy princess that needed help, but after today? The last thing he needed was to come home and find her damaged in any way.

                                    Sawyer instinctively backed away from the scene, turning her head as Gwen approached. “Nothing up there,” Gwen stated, turning her gaze toward the loving couple as Dean finally released all but Jo’s shoulders. “Well isn’t she just a peach?”

                                    “Go find the others,” Sawyer snapped, swallowing hard. Gwen turned her eyes upon Sawyer, a sly smirk fishhooking the edge of her lip as she saluted mockingly. She knew Sawyer wasn’t in charge, she was more in charge than the stick-like brunette. Dean turned his abruptly ravenous gaze on Sawyer. She was already backing off, readying to follow Gwen. “We’ll check out the town, make sure—”

                                    “What, you think one good deed’s gonna change you into a savior?” Dean snarled.

                                    Sawyer blinked, her expression wilting from the stoic façade she’d maintained. She quickly schooled it again, though. Shaking her head, she turned away. “You two feel like playing bait?” she asked abruptly and far more quietly, turning back on her heel to face them. She was serious. Dean very nearly barked at her again, but he couldn’t. Sawyer interjected, keeping him closed-mouthed. “Seriously, I give them five minutes before they realize you’re alone. Gwen can go grab the others, I’ll hang out here in case anything actually happens.”

                                    Dean wanted to snap at her, tell her to ******** off, but… He knew she was right. “They won’t come out unless we’re alone,” Dean continued with a sigh.

                                    “Bingo, baby. They don’t want anything to do with a big group of hunters, but you and Jo all by your lonesome on this romantic little evening? You’ll be prime.” She wasn’t going to be far, she assured with her eyes. “We’ll hold off until they’re back.”

                                    She still hadn’t said Sam’s name, or Samuel’s. “Unless you two want to give it a go now?” She shrugged. “Old time’s sake.” Old time's sake. What a joke. Sawyer had shot old time's right to Hell the day she'd decided to keep her mouth shut about Sam being back. Still, Sawyer had a mental bet going – one in Jo’s favor. The Djinn didn’t know what she was. All they saw was a pretty blonde outside her pretty house in the middle of a pretty night. They knew Dean, their target, and Sam – who was probably dealing with a mutual amount of bullshit. “Your choice.”

                                    “Just… Get out of here,” Dean snarled lowly. It didn’t take much to keep up the look in his eyes of pure rage and near-loathing. He could play it up as easily as she could, and it took a lot less effort to go from zero to fifty. He glanced to Jo, only the slightest head nod being his approval to the idea of them playing bait. First of all, though Jo didn’t know it, the two little women were hardly their only backup. They had something much more Saskwatch-y watching their behinds right now. Sawyer shrugged as if to say, ‘whatever you want’, and turned to head inside. She crossed through the Roadhouse and made it half a block before turning back. “Bait, what the ******** kind of—”

                                    Before Dean could round himself off two steps with his wife-to-be in tow, he was bombarded. The assault on his ribs was fast, hard and easily knocked the wind out of him as he was thrust back. As if anticipating Jo’s immediate response, the Djinn turned to her and grasped her by the throat. Dean was seeing stars, frankly far from used to the same bodily attacks as he’d suffered prior to this sabbatical.

                                    The Djinn howled, however, and by the time Dean had managed to pull his feet back under him and lift, it was already crumpling at Jo’s feet. Hurriedly, he took a step forth. Two more swooped down – swooping was always so, so bad – one with their attention on the newly-dangerous Jo (especially powered up, none of them had anticipated that) and the other on Dean. Reaching out, the creature clasped his jaw caught in a vice grip. She tilted his head up. It was Leann. The buxom blonde was sneering down at him, glaring through luminescent cyan eyes. “You made it through that last trip, so how about a big, fat double dose? Bad news, it’ll kill you. Good news? At least you’ll go fast. That’s for our father you son of a b***h.”

                                    Unlike last time, Dean started to see it. Everything he’d ever imagined going wrong. Jo was no longer standing across from him, Rick had her chained to the wall. He stood dutifully nearby while Yellow Eyes grinned, his hand patting onto Will’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. Mommy doesn’t bite.” Jo snarled, and Rick brought a knife up to her throat. “Come on, drink up. It’ll help your mom. Promise, she’ll feel better. Here, just a little…” He slit his palm, letting the blood flow freely before Will. Yellow eyes grinned over at him as Will ducked his head into the palm of the man. Dean cried out for each of them, one at a time as tears rolled down his face. “Jo!” he shouted. “No! Stop!” Rick stared the woman down, drifting his knife along the edge of her throat and leaving behind a slender line of blood. As the hunter’s eyes moved onto Dean, he grinned. Turning back for Jo, he swept the blade deep within her open mouth. Her luminescent eyes darkened to brown, then the lights went out. Dean screamed, pain radiating off him in waves stronger than anything he’d ever felt. He did this to them! It was his fault, he couldn’t save them! He was writhing upon the ground as Samuel swooped in to take control of the djinn.

                                    He dragged her off, as if to kill her out of sight. Jo had the antidote for Djinn poison lingering within her core, and it was a good thing, too. If she didn’t, Samuel had backup. He always came prepared – he was, after all, a Campbell Hunter.

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                                    Sawyer had a b***h of a time pulling a fast one on Jo with the Alpha – especially when the thing was all over Dean. She moved in on the creature, kicking it aside to allow Jo the opportunity to get to Dean. Shortly thereafter, the cavalry arrived. Perfect timing, too. Samuel grasped the Alpha, dragging her off (apparently Sawyer was right in her assumption – good thing, too. The monster of monsters was ready to rip into just about anything and had already wiped out two of three), it was good to see some things never changed). She didn’t see Sam, only due to the fact that she had spun back into the Roadhouse to go find the braying child upstairs.

                                    Jo had Dean and his nightmares to contend with, and frankly – despite accusations that could be made – Sawyer wasn’t heartless. A child, frightened in the middle of the night after having been awoken by his mortified father figure? Bad plan. Sawyer was the first to lurch up and run up the stairs. She dropped her weapons on the bar’s counter, the safest place for, well, anything ever before charging up the second stairwell. By the time she made it to the top, Will was out of his bed, crying in the hallway. Snot and tears ran down his little cheeks like the terrified child he was. “Hey, Will, hey—” she called as she jumped up the steps two at a time. Jo’s hands were full enough, Sawyer knew she would hate her later but for now… Maybe for always, she wanted to help her. She extended her arms to the kid, pulling him up into her arms the second she hit the top stairwell. “What’s the matter, buddy?” she asked, as if it were all some horrible dream. Dean’s wailing died down and Sawyer blew out a breath.

                                    “It’s s-s-so l-l-loud,” sobbed the hyperventilating child. Sawyer rocked him against her chest, holding onto the weight as if he were a feather. She had so much adrenaline in her veins she could have lifted a car if asked. “Wh-wh-what’s h-ha-happening?”

                                    “Nothing, sweetheart. Nothing, okay? Everything’s totally fine, okay? Everything’s fine.” The sobbing child wasn’t reacting to her as he would with Dean or Jo, she was sure. She held him closer, shushing him absently.

                                    “Wh-wh-where’s J-Jo? I w-want J-Jo,” sobbed the child again as he wailed in Sawyer’s ear. She flinched, grimacing as she nodded.

                                    “I know, honey. I know…” She held onto him until he’d settled his sobbing enough to stand on his own two wobbly feet downstairs. She sat him on the sofa as she moved to the door, peering out and downstairs to look for the kid’s parental unit. Where was she? Probably still dealing with Dean. How long could he suffer? God, she was horrible. Seriously horrible... What happened to her? “Jo!” she called, blinking momentarily, waiting for a response. Her eyes flicked from the ground to the ceiling. Nothing. “Jo!” she called again. The ruckus outside was over with, she had to get back out there with Gwen, Christian, Sam and Samuel to comb the area for any lingering Djinn. Finally, the blonde approached. Sawyer didn’t want to ask what she’d seen, talked to or any of it. She nodded to Will as his reddened face looked to his maternal figure.

                                    “Jo!” wailed the child as he burst into another round of sobbing. Sawyer jogged down the steps, grabbing her knife and gun as she passed the counter and all but rushed out the front door. Dean was back, shaken, but… Back. He was standing with Sam near the Charger. Sawyer winced at that, looking over to Gwen. The van was gone, obviously Samuel had taken it and Christian in order to get out as quickly as possible.

                                    This felt like a really bad party night. “Samuel and the cuzzy hopped out of here like a bat out of hell.” Dean sounded suspicious. Sam wanted to know if Dean was joining. “Nope. I’m goin’ inside, and I’m goin’ to bed.” Dean frowned, though the pain of his choice reflected in his eyes. He didn’t want to leave his brother, he didn’t want to leave Jo. He was trapped in limbo. Sawyer didn’t approach closer, Gwen was already using the binoculars to scout the trees. Sam was being a d**k. Seriously. Sawyer had heard a lot of things in her time, but this? He was trying to take Dean away from his family. His new family. “I’m not backin’ off from this, Sam. Jo and me… We’re getting married,” he said it to his brother for the first time, a ghostly smile appearing on his lips. He waited a beat, specific to his brother’s shock and awe (yes, he expected both). “I can’t just turn my back on this now, leave them. They need me here. And… And I need to be here. With them.” Sam wanted him. “Why? – No, I mean it. You know plenty of good hunters, you’ve got Rhodes’ tailin’ you again. I did something seriously stupid by rushin’ back here. I almost got all of us killed.” Not to mention put his whole family at risk. That was why Sam wanted him. Because he cared.

                                    Sawyer blanched at that.

                                    She turned her head away, her body swiftly following it as she moved forward a pace. “Hey, princess! You comin’ or what?” Gwen taunted. Sawyer nodded, though her emotions swirled painfully in her stomach. It must have been bad for her to feel it so strongly around someone she felt little near – Sam. She jogged toward Gwen, searching the region alongside the woman. Not long thereafter, Dean heard the Charger’s roar. She and Gwen checked every nook and cranny, but she was quiet the entire time outside of the occasional clear!.When they finished, she walked to the door. “Wait at the car.” Gwen nodded, heading off. Sawyer moved to the door, pausing momentarily. She stepped back through the house Dean had unlocked and up to the door. This was brazen, she knew it. She also knew there was something else she cared about, more than she’d let on throughout the last year. She had to prove it, if only because Sam had inadvertently – or merely in her head – classified her as a heartless b***h. She was finally able to be honest, finally able to tell the truth. It felt liberating. Or… It would have.

                                    Dean was waiting for her, not having returned to where his wife and child were, instead in the bar. Bottle in hand, he looked across the room. Sawyer hadn’t intended him to be her target, she had wanted to speak with Jo. To explain, in case the woman had seen more than she let on. “You’re a real b***h, you know that?” His words echoed in the empty hall, and immediately Sawyer turned to look at him. Not a word was spoken by her, eyes flicking to the ground remorsefully. He wasn’t kidding, either. She could hear the filtered rage. “Seriously, what the hell happened to you? You just take off, don’t tell us—”

                                    “Area’s clear,” Sawyer stated quietly. “The… They’re gone.”

                                    “Awesome.” He turned away from her, grabbing his glass and tipping it to his lips. “Now you can get the hell out.”

                                    “Dean… I’m—”

                                    “If you apologize, I swear I’m ramming this bottle down your ******** throat,” Dean snapped, glaring at her harshly. “All you did was cause us a s**t ton of grief, even though you saw how bad it was. You could have stopped it!”

                                    “I’m not going to apologize,” Sawyer continued levelly. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit.”

                                    Immediately, Dean jerked up. The sound of the chair on the floor was hollow and screechy at the same time. His voice was lowered and threatening as he said, “Come again?”

                                    “The first time I came to tell you, you two had just gotten a kid. You were a family, you were happy.” She swallowed hard, cutting him off before he could snarl about how utterly not-happy he was throughout the past year. She knew. But he was on t he road to it. “Then you were engaged. Living your lives. Moving on. I wasn’t. I knew if I told you, you would stop.” Her tongue swiped over her lips. She blinked back tears, managing to school her expression. She was adept at it these days, nobody would know she cared. Maybe that was what screwed her in the end. That, and when she was in her safe place… She didn’t even think she gave a ******** anymore. In a lot of ways… She didn’t. This wasn’t the safe place, though. This was a different kind. It was the kind where pain had meaning, maybe even acceptance. At least… She thought it did. “I wasn’t going to let that happen to her. She needed you, just like you needed him. And in this life time and every other… She’ll come first.” She didn’t back down from the hard glower in his eyes. “Now you two can be angry, but I’ll never regret what I did. I’ll never feel bad for forcing you to stay by keeping my mouth shut, because… I know how much she loves you. And I know that losing you… Even for a few hours? Let alone weeks, or months… It would feel like losing a limb, worse, even. She’s been there once. Don’t make her do it again.”

                                    She nodded, having said the piece she’d wanted to say for months now. She was swallowing back the lump in her throat, especially when Dean’s lip twitched. She hadn’t made it better by bringing up the past. She hadn’t earned his acceptance. He was livid. “Get out, Sawyer.”

                                    That felt like a bullet. Sawyer swallowed, nodding hollowly as she turned away and slipped silently out the door. Acceptance didn’t come. Dean was infuriated that she’d lied, kept his secret. She shouldn’t have gone back. They’d always lived on a level playing field, finding understanding between one another. This time, she feared there would be no understanding. Who was she kidding? If she were on the receiving end of this, she wouldn’t have forgiven him, either. Sawyer turned to leave, and by the time she arrived back at the Camaro, she was half way on the road to tears.

                                    “You’re not gonna start crying on me, are you? Just ‘cause I have tits doesn’t mean I’m all maternal,” Gwen grimaced.

                                    “You wouldn’t know how to be maternal if it bit you in the a**, Gwen,” Sawyer snapped. She glanced to the woman, offering her a smile. “I’m good. I’m still driving, too.”

                                    Gwen laughed. “I’ll get my hands on this baby one day, you just wait.”

                                    “Yeah? I don’t see pigs with wings yet,” Sawyer snapped back, tossing the car into gear. She knew one way she was bound to feel better, even if it emptied her out all over again. More than ever, she wanted that. If she couldn’t find it with Sam, she’d find it in the bottom of a bottle. Somehow, tonight, she would make the pain go away. Right now, it didn’t feel like it ever would.

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                                      "I think I'd know if something malicious was hanging around my bar," Jo countered with raised brows, stumbling into the heated embrace. Frowning a little, she curled her fingers around him and asked, "Dean, what's going on? The hell happened on this fishing trip?" He didn't get to answer, since other voices were commenting on things. He'd brought a hunting party? One voice above all the others caught her attention though.

                                      "Sawyer?" she asked, utterly confused. She peered around Dean's shoulder to see the brunette, until she flinched back at the sheer venom coming from Dean. It was radiating over her like a violent riptide, blocking out everything else around her. Maybe that was why she didn't sense the ambush; she was too focused on the words passing between her loved ones. They were wrong. And there was no time to question what was going on, because suddenly there were Djinn everywhere. The strongest and most powerful was taken down first, the blows landed to Dean quick and brutal. Jo lunged, only to get snagged around the throat. The grip wasn't hard, likely because it didn't need to strangle her to kill her.

                                      Big mistake.

                                      Green eyes flaring, Jo nearly hissed as she sucked down a soul, the first full one she'd had in over a year. It was nearly orgasmic, the rush of power that radiated through her as a monster's corpse fell to her feet. A soft moan left her, eyes growing slightly hooded as they continued to glow. Two more were swift to approach, singling the ex-hunters out. Hers was easy to dispose of; she didn't even need to fight it, because for a second too long, it was hesitant to approach her. The poor thing didn't know it didn't matter how far it was. She yanked on the soul nestled safely within, tearing it out in a few swift moments.

                                      The blonde killing her fiancé wouldn't last another six seconds, but Sawyer stepped in before she could rip the b***h off. Dean's screaming didn't leave much debate in what needed to be done next, so Jo dropped to her knees next to him. He was flailing, but not for any specific end. It was easy for Jo to slip in and breathe into him. She had enough to spare to cure him of the poison, and the last tendrils slipped past just before the whole cavalry arrived. Looking up as her fingers wrapped around him protectively, she watched as an old man wrangled the last Djinn in. What were they doing? Why weren't they just stabbing it. Two others were helping to tame the vicious b***h, and one was none other than...

                                      "Sam?" Jo's face fell, disbelief written in every line of her face. He didn't even look at her, helping to drag the monster off. None of this was adding up, and Jo started to wonder if she was hallucinating. Dean was breathing easier though, and the rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers was steadying. She looked down at him, watching as his eyes refocused. "Are you alright?" Jo asked, waiting just long enough to get a confirmation. The back door of the Roadhouse was still open, and their apartment door was open too. She could hear the calls, and she lifted quickly to rush inside.

                                      Flying up the steps three steps at a time (seriously, it was a miracle she hadn't fallen), her heart dropped when she reached the top. Will was sobbing, and the sight broke her heart. He hadn't cried this badly since the last nightmare he had about his father. "Oh, sweetie," she crooned. For the second time that night, she collapsed to her knees and wrapped her arms around the trembling boy. He choked on a sob, his little limbs giving out to curl wholly into Jo.

                                      "What's going on?" he hiccuped.

                                      "Nothing, sweetie. Nothing," she promised him. He didn't seem convinced, crying even harder. She couldn't blame him, and her heart ached with her pain and the knowledge that she had caused this to him. Noise like the ruckus he'd heard had been commonplace in his old house. She shushed him, humming a frantic tune. Sawyer's departure couldn't be focused on as she tended to the child, and it took a long time to calm him down that night. When she finally put him to bed, she was exhausted for an entirely different reason. The child's emotions had drained her mentally, even though her body was wide awake from the lingering energy.

                                      She wandered to the kitchen, making herself coffee as she looked out the window and watched the last car in her parking lot leave. The red Camaro disappeared, and Jo waited with the cup in hand for her beloved to return. When he finally did, Jo didn't move from the window. She didn't say anything either. She just held onto her coffee and glared at the empty parking lot. Angry, confused, contemplative Jo slowly played through the events of the night. The visit from Rufus was almost too coincidental, though he didn't know how accurate he would be in such a quick span of time.

                                      "What happened tonight, Dean?" Jo asked for the final time that night. She'd learned over the last year not to assume things, and she wasn't going to start now that their past had come barreling in violently. They'd grown too far to revert to old ways now.

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                                  The cavalry was called in quickly. Dean and Jo had set themselves up as bait, and they had to rush back before too much damage was done. Somehow, with the help of Sawyer (and now wasn't Samuel so thrilled he'd included her in their little group), they'd saved the Alpha. Samuel pinned her hands, and Christian and Sam rushed forth to restrict the rest. He injected the tranquilizer, which they'd developed from the Djinn's own poison - Samuel was truly a master of his craft. He had to wonder if the old man had a secret dispensary of information.

                                  They loaded it into the van, and the boys took off like bats out of hell. Sam lingered, waiting for Dean to approach him. He was wobbly, but... stable. "You good?" Sam asked, gaze flickering over his brother briefly. "So are you coming?" he asked next. That was a no, and Sam could actually say he was somewhat surprised. It didn't make his words particularly kind when he stated, "I practically shoved you at this life with them. I really wanted that for you. And when I told you to go, I-I thought... You could have it, you know? But now I'm not so sure. I mean, there is no out, right? You've got to consider the fact that you'll be putting them in danger if you go back."

                                  It was true, wasn't it? Dean was a target. He was always a target. Jo, potentially, could crop up as wanted, but she didn't hold the same burdens as he and Dean did. They were chosen, and he'd thought after the Apocalypse that they'd stop being chosen. The last few weeks proved otherwise, and now that Dean knew he was back? Sam selfishly wanted to keep him. Another person in his ring, another man to have at his disposal, it was ideal. And taking Dean away from Jo meant he could keep it that way. The blonde couldn't come. She was the true danger here, but Sam was clever enough not to voice that.

                                  Dean brought up how they were getting married, and Sam feigned his surprise, like Sawyer and him hadn't talked about it already. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in that deep," he murmured sincerely, though it was anything but. He hesitated, before he added, "I guess I just, wish you were coming, that's all." Dean asked why, and for the first time in a long time, Sam decided to be more honest about his condition than he had to this date. "You just went. You didn't hesitate. Because you care, and that's who you are. Me? I wouldn't even think to try. I'm telling you, it's just better with you around. That's all."

                                  He was adamant about staying though, and Sam didn't try any harder to bring him. Some horses needed to be coaxed into the pen, so Sam bid his adieu and left. There was no need to say bye to Sawyer; he knew he'd be seeing her again soon. In fact, the sooner the better. The mission had been a success, yet Sam still felt like he'd failed in some respect. Seeing his brother again... it hadn't been how he'd anticipated it. He didn't like things he couldn't anticipate. When he stopped driving, somewhere in Kansas, Sam texted Sawyer his location in case she wanted to drop by. She did, and Sam didn't hesitate to put his hands on her after she'd arrived. He was already slick with sweat from the workout he'd been vigorously putting him through. It helped to get his mind off the evening.

                                  She seemed just as eager, and he lifted her up, crushing her pelvis to his. His shirt was already off, discarded somewhere in his room, and his muscles were taut from the exertion. It didn't curb any of his eagerness, and his fingers dug into her flesh to show just how desperate he was to take her apart. He practically tossed her onto the bed, only to sink on top of her before the mattress fully stopped bouncing. Devouring her skin with hungry, aggressive lips, he nipped and suckled his way down her flesh. Fingers tugged at her clothes, ridding them sooner rather than later so his greed could find new places to claim.

                                  And he was greedy this evening. Gentleness was a foreign concept to the two by now. Each one was more concerned with taking their own pleasure than giving any to the other. It made for an almost dangerous game, each one proving to grow more angry instead of satisfied as their vicious time progressed. Somehow, the pain, anger, and nothingness built, until both of them were spent and sated in the sickest of ways. Sam didn't mind it, and by the way Sawyer kept coming back for more, he figured she didn't either. Not that he cared, but it made things easier when she wanted it just as much as he... well. As much as he could want it, anyway.

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#732727
#416D6E
                                    Dean collapsed back into his seat after having locked the doors securely. He drooped his head, eyes falling to the counter as his hands reached absently for the bottle he’d abandoned whilst trailing Sawyer out. What happened. He lifted his gaze, letting it rest on her stoic expression. Even still, warmth was in her eyes. Comfort, just as he always sought, swam along with utter fury. Dean blew out a breath as he began to recap the tale in clipped detail. “The whole time, Jo. She knew the whole goddamn time.” Alright, so she’d known since ‘just before Christmas’, but Dean didn’t totally buy it. She’d returned in November, a ragged, sobbing mess. “She could’ve told us at any friggin’ point, but she let us… She let me…”

                                    Another drink was swallowed, his thoughts swimming with fury, hurt. They’d both abandoned them, let him stew in his own misery and pretended there was nothing wrong. Sam had acted so nonchalant when he’d seen him, claiming he could no longer care as he’d once been able. Dean didn’t see that, he didn’t see that at all. Not like he saw it in Sawyer. He hadn’t mention the break up, though it feathered the fringes of his mind. That was an instantaneous warning signal that something was seriously wrong, and yet Sawyer continued to stick by Sam. Why? After he and Jo had split for the month in January, Jo had run off faster than a bolt. Sawyer refused, though. At least, that’s what he saw. She was around his brother, darkening and acting like she didn’t give a ******** about anything else. Dean poured himself another drink, shaking his head irritably.

                                    “Worst part is, she used us as an excuse,” he scoffed. “Can you believe it? My brother is alive and she didn’t tell either one of us ‘cause… ‘Cause she figured…” Dean lapsed, silence filling the region. Because she figured Dean would’ve packed up and left without a second look back. The worst part was… She was right. In an instant, Dean would have packed his belongings and left this little place called home. That was the shitty part about Sawyer, the fact that she knew them. “Sam’s alive, though.”

                                    At that, Dean drew in another deep breath. Another repetitive motion was made in order for him to toss the shot back. Not two minutes of silence later, he had the third. “How the hell is that even possible?”

                                    His hand moved to cover his eyes, shielding the throbbing agony of his interior from the exterior world. Moments later, as he breathed in sharply through his nose, Dean lowered his hand to brush it across his lips in a hurried swiping motion. There was no way to decide which betrayal Dean felt more horrendous about; Sam, for his ultimate betrayal just post-Hell, or Sawyer, for the one she committed knowingly and without remorse. She didn’t care that she could have ended months of agony, she just let him go along with what he’d believed in the beginning, which by that point was little. Dean wasn’t sure that could ever deem forgiveness. She’d known, she could have let him in on the little secret. She could have let Jo. He was, of course, less inclined to feel infuriated at his brother – Sam had only just returned to him, albeit a year later.

                                    A year. A full calendar plus. Sam could have called, texted, but he didn’t. What did that mean? Dean knew why he was here. He was here, now, because of the woman he loved and the child he adored. But he wanted to be elsewhere. He had always felt the call of the open road, wanting nothing more than to draw out into the wilderness with him and his baby. It was his dream life – no. This had been his dream life. But it wasn’t his real life. Family or no, Dean wanted the best of both worlds. He wanted perfection, to make the impossible possible.

                                    But the problem with impossible is that it’s simply that. Regardless of how thoroughly Dean wanted it, he could never have both sides. One without the other, it was how you kept the people you loved safe. Dean had learned early, far earlier than most – almost any. He remembered the flames, and more than anything… He feared the Roadhouse would succumb to the same, with his beloved wife inside. Dean was forced to keep them apart, and despite how he acted as though he wanted one without the other, the fact still remained that a part of him, his entire personality, was written out in order to keep up appearances. He wasn’t the do-gooder family man who went on fishing trips any more than Jo was the perfect Stepford Housewife. They were now, and would always be, hunters to the core – rust filled or not.

                                    Frankly, Dean had forgotten how sexy Jo could be with her flashing emerald stare, her iconic eyes and brutal disposition. He’d never thought he could love anything that came with a monster tag, yet the very soul stood before him. “A friggin’ year,” Dean scoffed, shaking his head again as he refilled his glass once more. No one could judge him for being a wreck tonight. Alcohol was dire and necessary. “Those two seriously became the biggest goddamn assholes on the planet.” Bitterness and contempt littered his tone, but so did the hurt. He’d been left behind while they rode off into their hunter sunset. Dean didn’t like it, and that was entirely to be expected. The fact still remained... Sam was on the planet. That was better than anything Dean could have imagined. But... he didn't feel blissed out. Not even close.

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#416D6E
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                                    Gwen was meeting with a few hunters in southern Nebraska to head off on her next excursion. Sawyer dropped the woman off, checking her phone as it buzzed. She stared down at the location, no words outside an address. Tossing her phone aside, Sawyer kicked the car into high gear. She arrived to a man who already had sweat glistening his Adonis frame – and she could never quite get over that. He grabbed her before she’d even made it fully through the door. Sawyer’s belongings were tossed aside as the door was kicked shut… Barely. Here, she was able to swallow her pain. Here, she was able to revel in something outside of the agony of being tossed out by her nearest and dearest. She dug her fingers into Sam’s rigid musculature, devouring a line from the base of his ear down. His salty skin earned an excruciating moan before he’d even moved her to the bed. Her hands dug into his scalp and shoulders until she was torn away, tossed onto the mattress in a muddled heap.

                                    Immediately he was upon her, her leg hooking to capture his waist and draw it against her in a frenzied grind. She shed her jacket while he worked off her jeans, their time wasn’t wasted. Not a second of it.

                                    She didn’t know how much of herself she actually drained into that night until she was emotionally – and entirely physically – ravaged. She lay panting, for the first time in many weeks unable to lift herself far enough to grab her clothes. All her hurt, every second of compassion and longing she’d felt for months, was tossed into the infuriated romp. Sawyer felt… vulnerable. She didn’t like it, either. She’d built up this wall, the one that was so protective not a soul could penetrate it. Yet, somehow, Dean and Jo had quickly writhed their way in. They always did. Dean beat it with a hammer. Jo didn’t even have to look at her for her to fear it. She knew the next time she saw them, it wouldn’t be welcoming or loving. She would be the black sheep.

                                    Sawyer didn’t instinctively roll away. She slid her weary arm behind her head, frowning at the ceiling as her sweat glistening skin cooled in the tepid air. “Sam,” she began, blinking pensively. “You said Dean was caring.” Her teeth grated along her brutally bruised lips. It felt like a rolling pin smothered them. “Yeah, I was eavesdropping. Sue me.” Her gaze didn’t fall away from the ceiling for many lengthy moments. “But, the point is… What do you think I am?”

                                    It was a logical question, and one that had her exceptionally confused. Maybe she wanted to hear his answer because her own was too harsh. She didn’t want some sweet, sensitive statement, though she wasn’t certain the truth would be any better. Somewhere, deep down, she knew it. She was dead inside. The dead didn’t care, they didn’t love or admire. They didn’t feel. Once, she'd been called the heart of their group. Now it was evident that she wasn't, at least... It was to her.

                                    But she still felt. She still felt love, hurt, desire and loss. It just felt muddled, as if beneath a cloud of everything else. Her brain and heart couldn’t seem to find their connectivity anymore, so she focused on one more than the other. Rationale, logic; they moved her forward while her heart lingered behind in an attempt to catch up. When Will had cried, she hadn’t hesitated, but there were so many other times she would have backed away from that and let somebody else clean up her mess. Sighing, Sawyer shook her head. She was frustrated, but not nearly as agonized as she had been hours prior. The numbness returned, as if an alcoholic haze had overtaken her as opposed to post-coital bliss. She knew this feeling, she had come to arbor it over the past few months. It was the emptiness reaching up with its dark claws, readying to pull her deep down into its grasp. Sawyer didn’t fight it. She couldn’t. Hours from now, she wouldn’t care about Sam’s answer. The disconnect would be back in place, and she would be perfectly content to go another week, month or year without giving a damn about much of anything.

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                                      Jo didn't turn around to face him for a few moments. Only when he didn't seem like he was going to speak did she turn. He needed to look at her. It had been why he'd rushed home, she was sure. He relented after their eyes locked for a few moments, and Jo's lips pulled into a tight line as she listened. Djinn attacked, Sam rescued, they rushed here, the rest is history. Jo's gaze fell to her coffee cup as he shifted his anger onto Sawyer. She knew she wouldn't be drinking it tonight, she realized vaguely, but she didn't move to put it down or pour it out. She couldn't move much at all.

                                      Things started clicking into place, except... nothing really made sense at all. It made sense Sawyer wouldn't want to stay with them when Sam was out and about. She'd known this whole time? Sam had been back an entire year, and Sawyer had known. Jo... didn't know what to make of that. Frowning deeply, Jo's eyes lifted, and they landed on the metallic seahorses. She blinked dumbly.

                                      No, none of this made sense to her. At least, it didn't click into place until Dean's voice trailed off. Her dark eyes snapped to him, the expression on her face unreadable. You would have left if you'd known. She finished the words for him in her head, and she knew the second she'd thought them that it was true. His silence was admission enough, and she knew him. A man didn't spend hours, days, weeks, months searching for a way to bring the dead back if they didn't plan to cling once the dead had risen. Sam had risen, and apparently a long time ago.

                                      Sawyer had done it to save her, she realized. She didn't want to take Dean away by giving Sam back, so she'd kept him a secret. She kept them at a distance, and... and Jo didn't know how to take that either. Her eyes fell to her coffee again, and she finally moved to dump it out. She suddenly didn't have the stomach for anything. There were more questions than answers, and Jo scoffed dully when Dean asked the most prominent one. How was it possible that Sam was back? She shook her head, for it was the only answer she could give. Her voice had left with her sanity, disbelief leaving her mute and dumbed. She ran water through the mug, before she set it down in the sink to be dealt with later.

                                      Joining Dean at the counter, she slipped into the other stool. Her fingers curled together, and she twiddled with her rings interchangeably. She didn't comment for awhile, letting him reel and wrap his head around everything. She couldn't quite do it either, so she didn't pressure him for more conversation. Not until she was sure what she wanted to say. "I need your help until the end of the school year," she stated abruptly, though her voice was quiet as she spoke. She looked at the clock. It was after 4 am, but Will wouldn't wake for awhile. He'd tuckered himself out pretty bad, and between the late bedtime and waking up in the middle of the night, he'd be out for awhile. Too bad neither of them would. Calmly, Jo tilted her head to look at Dean as her fingers idly wrapped on the counter.

                                      "I can't take care of Will by myself while school is still in. His schedule is the complete opposite of mine," she explained, pursing her lips as she tipped her head just a little farther the other way. "But. After that... I can manage."

                                      The words lingered in the air, and Jo narrowed her eyes on Dean pensively as she watched him try to gain her meaning. "You've been looking through those books for months for a way to bring you brother back, and now he's here, but you're still here when we both know you'd rather be with him," Jo stated. He wanted to deny it, and she smiled ruefully before she held up her hand, her left one, where an old jewel glinted cruelly in her face. "Let's not pretend our fairy tale is still into play, Dean. It was shattered the moment you saw your brother, but... it's okay." She didn't sound like it was okay, and she hunched up a little in her seat, drawing back into herself as woeful eyes looked at the counter. She was a hunter, and she knew how this worked. Her wedding was a moot point, the security of their home, their businesses.... none of it mattered anymore. Not in the wake of Sammy Winchester. He always came first, and he always would. Jo knew it as much as she knew Dean was her soulmate.

                                      "It won't matter for much longer. Meredith is working with the court to get approval for her guardianship back. Will, he'll be leaving probably sooner rather than later, so there's really nothing keeping you back," she added, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes flickered up to him, and she quirked her lips in a mockery of a smile. "Just finish the next few weeks with me. You can go, I'll get Will where he needs to go, and then I'll follow you wherever you want to go. And you can come back whenever, if it takes longer, just... don't come back a bloodied mess."
Gaia Forums » GAIA Community » Barton Town (Role Play) » Invitation-only RP

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