SPN Fic: Sanctuary 1/2 (Castiel/Dean/Jo, NC-17)
Fic Title: Sanctuary (1/2)
Author: thinlizzy2
Fandom/Genre: SPN/Romance
Pairing(s): Castiel/Dean/Jo
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14489 (total)
Warnings: Spoilers up to and including 5.10. Explicit sex including a threesome, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, violence, mention of canon character deaths.
Summary: Dean ends up spending a bit longer in the future than he'd expected. When Castiel leads him to his estranged wife, Dean learns more about the life of his future self and the life he himself might lead.
Author's Notes: I had to play a bit fast and loose with some coltish details of the canon to make this work. If that's a problem... um... a wizard did it?
Thanks so much to sailorhathor for her incredible art and equally incredible feedback, as well as to durtydeefla82, for being such a positive beta reader despite my codependent relationship with typos.
Prologue
Zachariah, Dean decided, was undoubtedly the biggest asshole ever to put on a meatsuit. And that was really saying something.
In spite of his promise that he was only stranding Dean in the future temporarily, two weeks had passed since the hunter first woke up in 2014, and it was well past time to consider the possibility that he might be stuck here for a while. The very thought made his skin crawl. It wasn't just the hopelessness of the fight that he seemed to have gotten caught up in against his will; it was what that fight did to the soldiers involved. In all his time here, he hadn't seen a single genuine smile or heard a laugh that wasn't tinged with bitterness. In a way, it was probably lucky that he had so much experience hating himself, since the man he was apparently destined to turn into was one of the most unsettling bastards he'd ever met. In fact, Dean had officially decided that he just couldn't stand to be around his future self any longer.
He tried explaining all that to Cas, loading up his banged-up truck while battling a massive load of guilt. Okay, so he hadn't actually asked the former angel to stay on Earth and lose all his powers, but apparently at some point he would, and that made him responsible for the wreck Castiel had become. He stammered out a bunch of half-hearted apologies that he knew weren't getting anywhere near penetrating the morphine haze Cas had plunged himself into. When Cas shrugged off Dean's final attempt to explain himself and lurched into the passenger seat, Dean initially assumed he was just too confused to know what was going on.
"Cas... you can't sleep here. I'm leaving tonight. Right now."
"I got that," the former angel slurred. "I'm coming with you."
Cas would slow him down; Dean knew that. He was too messed up to be of any use in a fight, and things would only get worse once he went into withdrawl. But leaving him behind was just impossible. It was something his future self would have no problem with, but Dean couldn't let himself be that far gone yet. So he climbed behind the wheel and hoped Castiel would sleep for most of the trip to wherever it was they ended up going.
Chapter 1
"Turn left here." Castiel ground his teeth as he spoke, and Dean turned to regard him warily. The former angel looked like hell; if Dean hadn't known it was the cravings doing it he'd have been worried Cas was succumbing to the Croatoan virus. At least he'd stopped scratching himself bloody; that was something to be grateful for.
"You don't get to decide where we go," he reminded his passenger. They'd already lost two days trying to find a guy Cas knew who could get them "supplies." Those supplies turned out to be some lethal knockoff of ether the scumbag cooked up in his basement. Cas had very nearly broken Dean's arm as the hunter wrestled him back into the truck.
"The wife lives near here," Castiel spit out. "We can't come so close and just drive on past. It'd be rude."
Dean choked on his surprise. "You're married?" He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Cas' wife would make of the orgies he'd seen far too much of in the past couple of weeks.
"Naw," Castiel replied. "Well, technically yes, but I don't even know if she's still alive. Fuck, I hope she's not, to be honest. It's not my wife I want to see, Dean. It's yours."
Dean very nearly drove off the road. "I have a wife?"
Getting details out of Castiel turned out to be pretty much impossible. Cas might be a drug addict and an alcoholic, but he wasn't an idiot, and once he figured out that Dean was essentially dying of curiousity, he worked out pretty quickly how to get what he wanted. Which was why, thirty minutes later, Dean found himself parked in the driveway of a rundown farmhouse, wishing really hard for something to punch.
How the hell could he be married? With the world collapsing at an alarming speed, his friends dead and his brother playing host to the devil himself, he somehow found the time to meet a girl? Split a can of Spam with her and steal a ring off a corpse that wouldn't be needing it anymore? None of it made any sense, and he actually found himself hoping this was just Cas' new plan to score some drugs.
"Wait here." Castiel's instructions cut into Dean's troubled thoughts. "She... she might not be too happy to see you, not after the last time. I'll try to explain things to her."
Great. He was married to a woman who hated his guts. Well, that should be no surprise. At least she had taste.
He watched Castiel stride past sigils and hop over the lines of salt to knock on the front door. Minutes ticked by painfully slowly. He wondered how long it had been since Cas last saw this mysterious wife of his. Maybe she didn't even live here anymore. Hell, for all either of them knew she could be dead. It would just be one more person he'd managed to fail in the last five years.
Castiel was pounding with both hands now. Dean was about to call out to him not to bother - this was clearly a waste of time - when the door cracked open. He strained his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who'd answered it, and was stunned to see Castiel throw his arms around her and kiss her deeply.
What the everloving fuck?
Cas followed the woman inside, the door slamming shut behind him. Dean buried his face in his hands and tried to get his head to stop spinning. He made a list of the things he knew.
The world was fucked up beyond all recognition. Humanity was being picked off like fish in a barrel. Bobby was dead, Sam was Lucifer's meatsuit, Cas was human and apparently having an affair with the woman Dean had married.
He missed Hell. Things were simpler there.
The sky darkened and the night grew colder. Dean shivered. He didn't have enough gas to keep the car running for heat and the pair inside the house weren't showing any signs of emerging. He couldn't bring himself to go and knock; whatever they were doing he was pretty sure it was nothing he wanted to interrupt. Should he just go? After all, Cas was in a safe place and whoever this girl was she wasn't anything to him now.
He was just about to turn the key when the door opened again.
Castiel came down the driveway with a new spring in his step. He was wearing clean clothes, Dean noticed, and his hair was wet as if from a shower. He was followed by a slender blonde who kept her head down low.
Cas stuck his head through the window. "I think we're going to be all right. Sorry to keep you waiting."
"No problem," Dean snapped. "I'm sure there are wolves that would have been happy to keep me company after a while. Is that her?"
"It is." The girl spoke with a slow Southern drawl partially obscured by what sounded like a two pack a day habit. Castiel stepped back and Dean watched as his supposed wife swept back her hair and regarded him steadily.
Scars. His first impression was of scars. The whole left side of the woman's face was a mangle of twisted burns and shiny-skinned patches. Dean nearly retched.
Was that from him? Had he somehow done this to her?
He forced his gaze away from the ruin of her left cheek and made himself meet her eyes. His stomach twisted with recogition.
"Hello, Dean. It's been a while. Longer for you than for me, if what Cas says is accurate."
He made himself answer. Whatever had happened between them, he owed her that.
"Hey, Jo."
Jo Harvelle tilted her head towards the house. "Why don't you come inside?"
Chapter 2
So, in 2014, Jo apparently owned a fucking arsenal.
Dean had to shift a cache of shotguns and rifles to the ground just to find a place to sit down. Cas, much more at ease, reclined on the floor. Jo busied herself in the kitchen, as if estranged-husbands-to-be dropped in every day, and she knew the protocol for dealing with them involved refreshments.
"He shouldn't be drinking," Dean warned her as she handed Castiel a glass of tawny liquid.
"It's apple juice," she reassured him. "I make it from the crabapples. It's not bad, once you get used to it, and we could all use the vitamens."
"It's evil sludge." Castiel made a face at his cup. "I just want a drop of something to take the edge off. Come on, Jo; I know you've got it around here somewhere. Once a bargirl, always a bargirl and all that."
"Not a chance." She leaned in close, taking in the sweating, the shaking, the twitching of his jaw. "And none of the rest of it either. It stops. As long as you're around me, you're not doing that shit." She glared at Dean. "How could you let him get to this point?"
"It was nothing to do with me!" Dean objected. "The last time I saw him, the guy was an angel!"
Jo lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. "So... 2009, huh?"
"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "October."
She turned to Castiel. "And he knows nothing?"
"Nothing. I thought maybe we should tell him together."
"Excuse me." Dean had always had a thing about people talking through him. "I just wanted to point out that I'm actually right here. If you two wanted to let me in on whatever it is you're talking about, that would be just peachy, thanks."
"Was he already an asshole in 2009?" Jo asked. "I can't remember."
"I've always been an asshole," Dean reminded her. "But I'm an asshole you married? When did that happen?"
"2011," Jo told him. "Just before Christmas. I think I've still got the pictures; I'll get them our for you in the morning."
"It was a nice wedding," Castiel chimed in. "You looked gorgeous."
"I looked like overcooked meat." Jo rubbed at her scars. "But you're right. It was a nice wedding."
"How did it happen?" Dean hadn't known how to ask but since Jo had brought it up it felt like the right time.
"The wedding?"
"Your scars."
"Oh." She rubbed them again. "I was in an explosion. It was bad. Momma... she died then. You thought I did too; when I finally found you again, you were so happy. I think I worked out right then that you actually loved me. You put your arms around me and you kissed me, scars and all, and I thought, he really-" She broke off and swallowed a sob. "Sorry. Shit, I'm sorry. I told myself I wasn't going to do this."
Dean felt paralysed. Ellen was gone, dead and gone. And Jo... whatever he had done to Jo it must have been bad to make her cry like that. He wanted to do something, offer her some comfort, but how could he atone for something he hadn't done yet?
Cas eased her into his lap. "It's all right, honey. It's all right."
He wrapped his arms around her, stroked her hair gently. Dean watched them, torn between jealousy and gratitude. So he'd loved Jo and he'd married her. And somehow, he'd messed that up. But she'd had Cas; they obviously meant a lot to each other. It still didn't make sense, though. Him fucking up his marriage, sure. He could see that. But why was Cas living with the Dean from the future, having orgies with random women, when he had a girl he cared so much about?
"It's fine." Jo smiled and pulled away from Cas. "I survived. That's what matters. I'm still here, as strange as that seems some days."
"So... I didn't do that to you?" Dean hated to press her, but he had to know. "You and I, we got together after the explosion?"
"You didn't do it," Jo confirmed. "We were actually together for a little bit before the explosion, but it still wasn't your fault."
Dean sagged with relief. "So we got married..." That still sounded strange in his mouth. "We got married and then you met Cas?" It was awkward to ask, but they certainly weren't hiding it, and Dean felt like he needed to know what was going on.
Jo glanced at Castiel. He cocked an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head. "I knew Cas before too." She stubbed out her cigarette. "You know what? I can't do this now. I get that you've got questions and I'll get to them; I swear I will. But I'm tired, Dean. It's been a very strange day." She got to her feet. "We'll talk in the morning. I'll show you where you can sleep."
"We can't just move in on you," Dean objected.
"You don't want to stay here?" Jo suddenly sounded very young.
"It's not that-"
"We're staying." Castiel sounded firm. "I'm not getting back in that fucking truck tonight. Every time we take a corner, I feel like my intestines are coming up. We'll sleep here and we'll talk in the morning."
That seemed to have settled it. The two of them headed upstairs, and Dean, with nothing else to do, trailed after them. He tucked himself into the narrow bed Jo provided, dislodging several more weapons in the process. He felt sleep tugging on him almost instantly; he was far more tired than he'd realized. He expected Castiel to follow Jo to bed, but when the other man lay down next to him, his body pressed against Dean's on the thin mattress, he was only surprised by how totally unsurprised he was.
Chapter 3
Dean was woken by the sound of Castiel's screams. The former angel thrashed in his sleep like he was being tortured, all four limbs straining in search of something he couldn't find. Dean almost shook him awake, but he changed his mind at the last minute. Being awake probably wasn't any better for Cas; at least this way he'd end up rested.
Falling back asleep was going to be impossible. Dean stretched, working out the kinks in his neck. He wondered if Jo was up yet.
She wasn't, so Dean wandered around the large, cluttered house. He wondered who it belonged to. Not that it mattered; the original occupants were probably long dead.
He found the scrapbooks in the cellar; they were bright spots of floral-print paper against the overall gloom of the room. He couldn't help but grin as he opened the first one and found an old polaroid of Jo, sulking in a rose-sprigged lacy dress as her mother held her hand with a rueful smile.
Dean was going to miss Ellen.
Intrigued, he went through the rest of the book. Photos of a young Jo, freckle-faced and pigtailed, filled the pages. Her parents watched her grow in the background, both of them at first and later just Ellen. It was sweet, he thought, this little kid growing up all innocent. No idea of what the future was going to hold for her.
He reached for another one. His smile faded off his face.
The first page held an old, yellowed clipping from a newspaper. The picture was of a bombed-out building, utterly flattened. Wreckage smoked ominously.
"That's how we lost Ellen."
Dean jumped. He'd been so involved in the scrapbooks, he hadn't heard Castiel come down the stairs.
"It looks like a war scene." Dean felt sick of the thought of Ellen burning inside the ruin.
"It was, actually. The beginning of a war." Castiel shut his eyes briefly. "Back then, we still thought we could win. If it helps at all, I don't think she would have suffered. She and Jo couldn't have been more than a few feet from the bomb when it went off. It would have been instant."
"She and Jo were together?" Castiel nodded. "Then how did Jo manage to survive?"
"She didn't. I went back after; I brought her back."
"How?"
"It was before... all this." Castiel made a gesture that seemed to encompass his shaking, weakened body.
"But..." Dean checked the date on the article. "December, 2009. That was after you rebelled. You couldn't fix Bobby's legs, but you could bring Jo back from the dead?"
"I didn't know I could do it. When I went back, I just wanted to see about giving them a proper burial. When I found her body, I just touched it, just for a second. And then she was back." He stared at his hands. "I haven't been able to do it since, not even to fix the scars. I can't explain it; it's just... I loved her. I had to help."
Dean drew a deep breath. "Cas... when I found out about you two, was I really pissed off? Is that when things started to go wrong with us?"
Cas shook his head. "You were happy."
"Happy?" Okay, he was hoping he hadn't acted like too much of a dickhead, but he couldn't imagine shaking his best friend's hand and wishing him a good time with his stolen woman.
Castiel looked resolute. "We were all happy."
The stairs creaked. "Hey? Where are you guys?"
Dean started. Feeling like he'd gotten caught reading a teenager's diary, he tossed the scrapbooks behind a stack of old newspapers seconds before Jo appeared.
She was dressed in a workshirt and old jeans, carrying a sawed-off shotgun. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Just looking around." Dean hoped he wasn't blushing too much.
"Well, visiting hours are over. Two of my traps were sprung last night. And that means there's likely to be nasties way closer than we want them. Grab a couple of weapons boys; it's time to earn your breakfast."
"You've got to be kidding." Cas gave his dry, humorless laugh. "In case you'd forgotten, Jo, I don't hunt anymore. A lover, not a fighter and all that."
"And in case you'd forgotten, I don't listen to bullshit. Get a gun. I'll meet you in the car in five minutes." She swept up the stairs.
Castiel rooted through the weapons. "I never could say no to that girl."
Dean watched him load a rifle. His hands were already trembling, and they were nowhere near danger. "Cas, can you do this? If not, I'll square things with Jo. We'll be fine just the two of us, I promise."
For the first time since he'd arrived in 2014, Dean saw an actual smile spread across his old friend's face. "Well I'll be damned."
"What?"
"You're... you're just so you, aren't you?" Castiel leaned forward and brushed Dean's lips with his own. "I'll do what I can. Come on."
Dean followed, telling himself that the adreneline surging through his veins just due to anticipation of the fight.
Chapter 4
In case Dean didn't have enough reasons to hate 2014, it decided to throw were-eagles at him. Were-eagles the size of SUVs, strong enough to smash through brick walls. Just fucking wonderful.
They didn't need a full moon, Jo had explained. Their transformations were triggered by fear, pain or anger. Naturally, in this day and age that meant they were in their creature-forms the vast majority of the time.
Dean had no idea if these things were genetic mutations from werewolves or if someone had created them in a lab to be a particular menace, but they were a bitch to kill. Not only did he have to hit a target that could vanish into the clouds, but when he managed to nail one through the heart, it reverted to a human corpse and came crashing down to Earth in a mess of blood, guts and splintered bone.
Seriously, were-eagles. Could this year get any more messed up? Luckily, Jo had the foresight to stock her car with a good supply of silver bullets but they were already running dangerously low on ammunition and Dean didn't want to think about what might happen if they ran out.
Dean growled in frustration, longing for a higher vantage point. He ran to the highest tree he could spot, quickly engaging the safety on his gun and tucking it into the waistband of his pants. If he could climb to the higher branches, he'd be that much closer to his targets.
He hadn't gotten more than ten feet up before a pair of the freakish things noticed him. Like patriot missiles, they swerved and honed in on him, beaks gaping open and claws outstreched, Dean ducked, covering himself as well as he could with the leaves. He felt talons score his back. Fuck. He just hoped they needed an actual bite to infect him.
The were-eagles turned in the air and came back at him. Dean fumbled for his gun, swearing frantically. They'd been attacking the whole group so far; why the hell were they suddenly focusing in on him?
Luckily, he wasn't the only one who noticed. Castiel and Jo ran to the base of the tree, firing desperately at the attacking birds.
"Dean! Dean, get out of there! There's a nest!"
Dean searched the branches above him. He could just make out the dark shadows of a nest in the upper branches. Were there eggs in there? Oh shit.
The other were-eagles had noticed him now and were coming to join their companions in the attack. Dean scrambled out of the tree, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his back. Another eagle passed within inches of him, and he instinctively threw his hands up to defnd himself. His balance was already unsteady; he lost his footing and fell seven feet to the rocky ground, his gun clattering along the stones and out of sight.
Pain blossomed in his ankle and quickly spread through the rest of his body. Frantic, he tried to haul himself towards cover, searching the ground for his weapon. A dark shape shot out of the air, heading straight for him. He threw his arms over his head, and hoped it would at least be quick.
Death by bird. Could his luck be any worse?
The expected attack didn't come. Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel standing over him, shielding him with his body The former angel aimed and shot, hitting the nearest were-eagle through the heart. It shrieked once and transformed; the body plummeting back to Earth and splitting open on the ground.
Another eagle screamed in the air, as if mourning its mate. It came out of the sky like a crashing plane. Dean watched, helpless, as the thing grabbed hold of Castiel, lifting him into the air as if he weighed nothing at all.
Jo cursed and took aim. Her shot went wide; the creature was just moving too fast. Already, Cas and the were-eagle were little spots against the sky.
Fear made Dean dizzy. There was just no way he could let Cas die for him, not like this. He searched the ground for his gun but it was nowhere do be found. Knowing it was a bad idea, but without any other option, Dean hobbled back towards the tree and began to climb.
The were-eagles responded immediately. They came at him with incredible speed. Dean heard shots below him, saw one fall as Jo scored a hit. They were closer now; Dean could see Castiel struggling weakly in the grip of one of the massive birds. Jo fired again, and the third creature fell out of the sky. Only the one who had Cas was left.
It circled above them, clearly deciding whether or not it would be safer to just fly off elsewhere and enjoy its tasty little snack. Dean climbed higher, waving his arms in the air to get its attention.
"Hey! Hey you! I'm thinking of making myself a nice omelet! What goes better with your kiddies, mushrooms or ham?"
The were-eagle screamed and dropped Cas. Dean heard him hit the ground with a sickening thud. The eagle closed in on him; it was so close that he could see the fury in its inhuman golden eyes. He tightened his grip on the branch, knowing it was useless. He wouldn't be able to hold on once that thing got hold of him.
He just hoped Cas was all right. If he'd been able to save Cas, it would have been worth it.
Claws pierced his skin and he hollered. Then, a shot rang out and he was hit by the weight of a human corpse collapsing on top of him. His branch gave way and he fell, mercifully blacking out before he hit the stones.
Chapter 5
Dean woke up, blissfully unaware of where he was. He was conscious of a soft mattress, a slender figure kneeling between his spread knees. For a minute, that was enough to put him in a great mood. Then he felt his ankle throb, and he remembered.
"I've splinted it." Jo snipped the bandage as she spoke. "I'm not sure if it's broken or just sprained, but it won't really matter for treating it. I haven't had any plaster for months. You'll just have to stay off it. Does it hurt?"
"Not too bad," Dean lied. "How's Cas."
"Out cold," Jo replied. "I need to look him over, but I wanted you to wake up first. I'm not sure he wasn't bitten, and if he was I'm going to need help in case he transforms. I've got him tied up in the kitchen, if you can walk that far."
Dean tested his foot. He gasped as the pain shot through him the second he put his weight on it.
"Hang on a second." Jo ran up the stairs, emerging with two little green pills and a cup of water. "Take these."
Dean swallowed them. "What are they?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, but they work for pain. I don't have a lot though, so try not to take them unless you need them. Ready to see Cas?"
Dean hobbled towards the kitchen. "You know, when he wakes up, he's going to want something for the pain."
"I know."
"Are you going to give him anything?"
"I don't know, Dean!" Jo's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not a doctor. What happens when you give an addict the unlabelled pills you found in a car wreck? Is it better or worse than letting him shit himself with pain?" She rubbed her eyes wearily. "With any luck, maybe he won't be too badly hurt."
Against all odds, that appeared to be the case. Castiel, lying on his stomach on the kitchen table with his wrists and ankles bound, was heavily bruised and had a few deep cuts but Dean couldn't even spot any obvious bone fractures. Dean still couldn't keep from wincing at the sight of his injuries. "He fell so far. How is he even alive?"
Jo shrugged. "Angels are hard to kill."
"But... he's not an angel anymore. He told me he broke his foot last year."
"Anyone else would have lost the leg. Probably bled to death. Dean, Cas doesn't really get how fragile humans are. He eats, he sleeps and he hurts, so he thinks he's human. But he's still a lot more powerful that he realizes. A lot stronger and more resiliant than anyone else. It drives you - the other you - insane that he doesn't get that."
From what Dean could tell, straddling Castiel's legs while Jo checked him for bite marks or serious injuries, that seemed to be true. A few of Cas' wounds already looked days old; he was healing fast.
A jailhouse-style tattoo covered Cas' upper back, spreading along his rib cage. Dean reached out without realizing what he was doing, stroked the delicate Enochian symbols that he knew were carved into his own bones.
"You did that for him," Jo told him. "Once we worked out that the angels were never going to leave him alone. He didn't have enough grace left to do it the way he did for you, so you helped him."
"Didn't know I was such an artist."
Jo shrugged. "Help me turn him over."
They rolled him onto his back, careful to spare him further injury. Jo resumed her search while Dean just stared, utterly confused.
There were two more tattoos on Castiel's chest. The first was a pale blue heart shape, with 'Jo' written in the center. Its twin was just beneath it, an identical blue heart bearing the name 'Dean'.
"No bites." Jo climbed down from the table. "He was lucky."
"Jo?" She looked up. "What's with those?"
Jo followed Dean's eyes to the tattoos. She drew a deep breath. "This isn't how either of us wanted to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Dean was sick and tired of everyone knowing more about his life than he did. It was well past sharing time. "Did I leave you for him? Is that why he was living with me?" It made sense; Dean hadn't been with a guy since high school, but Cas had always had a pull on him. And if it hadn't worked out, seeing Cas with all those women would have been enough to make Dean about as pissed off with the former angel as his future self was. But then why did Cas and Jo get along so well? Had Dean been such a shitty husband that Jo was glad to see him gone?
He opened his mouth to ask, but the sight of her peeling off her shirt sucked the words out of his mouth.
He noticed two things.
First, Jo had sensational tits. All the rough living in the world couldn't change that.
Second, she had two pale blue hearts tattooed on her chest. One said 'Dean'. The other said 'Castiel'.
"You've got... or the other you has... fuck, this is confusing." Jo pulled her shirt closed, her fingers shaking on the snaps. "The Dean from this time has got two as well. A 'Jo' and a 'Cas'. You didn't want it to say 'Castiel'; you said he was always Cas to you. We got them just before our wedding; we couldn't afford rings."
"It was the three of us. The three of us were lovers." There was no other explanation for it.
"Yeah."
"That is so majorly fucked up."
Jo glared at him. "Dean, I've done your gay panic thing once already. I'm not patient enough to go through it again."
"It's not gay panic." Den shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. "It's how did I get this fucked up panic. And it's pretty damn justified! How did this even-" He broke off, studying the delicate curve of her neck, letting his eyes fall to Castiel's high collarbone. He remembered the swell of her breasts, the way Cas' hips felt under his while Jo was doing the examination. "This was my sick idea, wasn't it? Jo, I'm a pervert; I've known that for a while. But you two didn't need to-"
"Don't you call it sick!" Jo was furious now; Dean could see that clearly. "It wasn't sick, and it wasn't perverted! If you knew what you were saying..." She trailed off. "But you don't know, do you?" The anger drained slowly off her face. "You don't have any idea." She reached for a blanket and covered Cas, gently tucking the tattoos under the cover. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
Chapter 6
The album Jo handed Dean was nothing like her other scrapbooks. While the rest were tattered and yellowing, this one was covered in clean white leather and obviously carefully preserved. Dean opened it nervously, not knowing what he might find.
The first picture was of him and Jo. In the photo, he was wearing the type of scratchy suit he usually avoided like the plague, but he was grinning from ear to ear, beaming in a way he knew he hadn't for a long time. Jo in her long white dress was radiant beside him, her smile making her scars irrelevant.
"It's our wedding," Jo told him, unnecessarily. Dean nodded, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak.
He turned the page. The next picture was a group shot. Jo was in the middle, with Castiel and Dean on either side of her. Sam stood at Dean's other side, his goofy smile making him look like an overgrown kid. Bobby in his wheelchair sat beside Sam, obviously trying hard not to look choked up by the whole event.
Dean reached out and stroked his brother's face with one finger. "Sam."
"He was your best man." Jo lit a cigarette and reached out to touch the picture as well. "Cas was my man of honor." She shrugged. "We just told people I didn't know many girls."
"Were we... was it already the three of us?"
"It was always the three of us." She flipped to the next page. The next photo showed Jo and Castiel with their arms around each other. Cas was kissing the top of her head while Jo smiled joyfully at the camera.
They looked so happy that Dean couldn't help but smile back at the image. "Why did you marry me?"
"I loved you."
"No... I mean, why not him?"
Jo shrugged. "He was already married." She blew smoke into the air. "I won't say it was perfect, Dean, but we always came back to each other." Tentatively, she put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you to think I was settling. I wanted to marry you. I loved you."
Dean flipped to the next page and then slammed the book shut. It was no use. The photo of the three of them, he and Cas kissing passionately while Jo wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, was unforgettable.
"Careful!" Jo grabbed ber album from him and cradled it to her chest. "It's the only one I have."
Dean rubbed his sore eyes. "How did it happen? What started it?" He couldn't imagine it. Plucky, spunky little Jo was one of the last people he'd ever want to corrupt. And Cas... Cas with his firm faith that God would help him, that redemption was possible. How had he let this happen?
"We were going to die, Dean." Jo carefully placed the big white book on a shelf. "We were sure of it. A bunch of idiots, off the hunt the devil. We thought it was our last night, no question about it."
"I told him I didn't want him to die a virgin," Dean recalled.
"Yeah, he remembered that. He thought it was actually important to you, like some great moral obligation you needed to satisfy before you could rest." She laughed ruefully. "Not that I was especially up for doing it for charity, but I liked him. I more than liked him; I'd only just met him but... hell, you know Cas. There's something about him, isn't there?"
There definitely was. "And I what? Walked in and figured I'd join the party?"
She shook her head. "Cas went to get you. He said it wouldn't be right without you. God, Dean. I'd never seen you as nervous as you were that night. You kept saying, 'I'd better die tomorrow; I'd really better.'" She laughed. "But it was true. It wouldn't have been right without you; it wasn't. We tried it for a while, after you left. It didn't work. So he went after you, and that didn't work either. I don't know how he worked it out, that there needed to be the three of us. Maybe it was just an angel thing."
Dean could picture the scene. The two of them waking him up in the night. Jo, unscarred and beautiful, looking like everything that every hunter told himself he was fighting for, and then Cas with his wide eyes and sad mouth. The two of them would have been fucking gorgeous together, and they'd wanted him? Despite himself, he was flattered. Flattered and aroused and finding it very difficult to breathe.
"Jo... Jo I'm really sorry." He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but whatever it was he meant it.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for." She stretched out a hand to him, and he backed away.
They'd looked so in love in those pictures. So totally wrapped up in each other. What was it about those two that had made him think he could have that? What had made him think that this, three damaged, lost soliders, was anything but inevitable?
"I'm sorry," he said again as Jo dropped her hand, disappointment tranforming her face and making her look very tired again.
He stumbled up the stairs, ignoring the pain in his ankle.
He'd forgotten about Castiel, naked in the kitchen until he went looking for a much-needed glass of water. The sight of the battered body stopped him in his tracks. It had been hard enough seeing his friend bruised and cut before, but that was nothing compared to now. He would know that body; he would be inside it. If Jo wasn't lying, he would love and be loved by the angel inhabiting it, and the very thought was overwhelming.
As if he sensed Dean's presence, Castiel stirred on the table. He moaned, an obscenely intimate sound, and opened his eyes. Frightened, he struggled a bit against his bonds until he caught sight of Dean. And then he smiled.
It was all there in that smile. Jo and her photos had been telling the truth, Dean was certain of it now. He spun around on the spot and fled, knowing there was no where to go but needing to get away from the two of them, from the longing in her outstretched hand and the promises in his eyes.
Chapter 7
In post-apocalyptic wastelands it was kind of naive to not to map out working gas stations, but Dean hadn't been thinking straight. Which was why he found himself stranded by the side of the road with the sun going down and hoping the first person who stopped to offer him a ride wasn't going to be a Croatoan infested zombie.
He was in luck.
The first time he saw the brunette behind the wheel of the charger she had hit him across the face, but Dean figured beggers couldn't be choosers. He slid into the passenger seat and gave her what he hoped was a nice, don't-slap-me smile.
"Thanks for stopping. It's Risa, right?"
"Good to see you again, Dean. As your brother said to Lucifer, climb in."
They drove in silence for a while, Risa giving the road most of her attention. The street was winding and badly maintained, but she drove extremely quickly. After a couple of nauseating hairpoint turns, Dean felt the need to speak up.
"You can slow down, if you like. I mean, there's no point in killing ourselves getting back to camp. And I'm honestly in no hurry to get there."
Actually, he'd be glad never to see that place again, but there was nowhere else he could go. Jo's place was out of the question and Dean hadn't seen any other signs of human life in all the time he'd been driving.
"I'm in a hurry." She put more pressure on the accelerator.
"Oh, sorry. Is there trouble back at the camp?"
"Not anything out of the ordinary."
"Then why the rush?"
"This isn't my true vessel and it's falling to bits on me. I'd like to get out of it as soon as possible."
Dean's blood ran cold as Michael turned to him with a mirthless smile. "No."
"That's not your line, Dean."
Dean hit the pavement hard as he flung himself out of the car. The asphault ripped skin from his chest, thudded against his hip as he heard bones crack. He screamed in pain as he bounced along the road and into a ditch, landing face down in the rancid water. Too shocked to even yell again, he crept out of the muck on two damaged arms.
"I'd forgotten how much you like to showboat. It's endearing, up to a point. I'd appreciate you not breaking my vessel all to bits, but I can fix it up once I get in." Michael rolled Risa's eyes as Dean dragged himself back onto the road.
"No," he panted. "I'm saying no."
The archangel laughed in disbelief. "Honestly? I admire determination, but this is ridiculous. Humanity is eating itself from the inside out, new breeds of creatures develop every week, and even the great Dean Winchester admits the battle is lost. What exactly are you clinging to?"
Dean spit mud from his mouth. "I'm not admitting anything."
"Not you, you fool. But if I were to give you five years, I think it's safe to say you'd come around. I thought you might want to spare yourself that."
Dean lay his head down on the road, too sore to raise it. "Use him. Use the Dean who wants you. Leave me be."
"But I want you." Michael crouched next to Dean. This close up, the hunter could see Risa's pretty skin starting to rot at the temples. "I want the proud hunter who stood up to me and said no so many times. It's a matter of principle."
Dean tried to spit at him, but all he managed was a thin line of saliva and blood that drooled down his chin.
The archangel laughed. "Of course, with the other Dean as a back-up, I can play with this body a bit. If it breaks down while I'm convincing you, I can settle for his." A fierce pain shot through Dean's side as he felt the flesh there rip. Blood poured onto the ground beneath him as he tried to staunch the wound with his hand.
"No." He said it through gritted teeth, but he said it.
"Not overly attached to your guts? How about the pretty face then?"
Dean's vision filled up with red as blood ran down his face. He was glad not to see the sores Michael had created on his face; he could tell from the pain they were horrific.
"You know something Dean? I figure I can make Risa's meatsuit last another couple of days at the rate I'm using it up. As you know, I don't need to sleep. So you've got another 48 hours of this coming unless you decide to make it easy on yourself."
Dean opened his mouth to say 'no' again, but he couldn't make the sound. There was blood and bile in his throat; he could barely breathe through it. 'Yes' would come easily enough though; he was sure of that.
"Get away from him!"
Dean struggled to see through the gore covering his eyes. Michael's head snapped around as he saw Jo and Castiel climbing out of the car. The archangel snorted. "Honestly? Okay, she's got spirit, pointless spirit but still... but you, Castiel? Aren't you at least too embarassed to bother me any-"
Cas clapped his hands together and Michael was cut off mid-taunt by a burst of light and wind. Dean shut his eyes against the glare.
Castiel's voice in the darkness was quietly amused. "At least I don't vanish when someone does the sigil trick. Assbutt." He gasped when he saw the extent of Dean's injuries. "Dean! Dean, are you all right?"
Jo knelt in front of him with a flask of water. She pressed it against his lips. "Drink, don't try to talk."
Swallowing was difficult. Dean rinsed his mouth and tried again. Castiel pulled off his jacket and dipped a sleeve in the ditchwater, began sponging blood from Dean's body.
"C-cas?" Oh, it hurt to talk. "Jo? You're all right?"
"Don't worry about us." Jo inspected the wounds on Dean's face. "Cas, he's going to need stitches."
"He's going to need a lot more than that. Jo, we're going to have to move him."
She nodded. "Dean, is there any chance your neck or your back is broken? We're going to have to try and lift you and we don't have a stretcher."
Dean managed to get the 'no' out this time. He felt Jo seize his shoulders, Cas take hold of his ankles. As they lifted him off the ground, the pain that shot through his body made all the other injuries feel like nothing at all. But as they loaded him into the back seat of the car, Cas crawling in beside him to try and brace him against the bumps on the road, he felt that, all evidence to the contrary, he just might be safe.
Part 2 is here: http://thinlizzy2.livejournal.com/4812.html
Author: thinlizzy2
Fandom/Genre: SPN/Romance
Pairing(s): Castiel/Dean/Jo
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14489 (total)
Warnings: Spoilers up to and including 5.10. Explicit sex including a threesome, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, violence, mention of canon character deaths.
Summary: Dean ends up spending a bit longer in the future than he'd expected. When Castiel leads him to his estranged wife, Dean learns more about the life of his future self and the life he himself might lead.
Author's Notes: I had to play a bit fast and loose with some coltish details of the canon to make this work. If that's a problem... um... a wizard did it?
Thanks so much to sailorhathor for her incredible art and equally incredible feedback, as well as to durtydeefla82, for being such a positive beta reader despite my codependent relationship with typos.
Prologue
Zachariah, Dean decided, was undoubtedly the biggest asshole ever to put on a meatsuit. And that was really saying something.
In spite of his promise that he was only stranding Dean in the future temporarily, two weeks had passed since the hunter first woke up in 2014, and it was well past time to consider the possibility that he might be stuck here for a while. The very thought made his skin crawl. It wasn't just the hopelessness of the fight that he seemed to have gotten caught up in against his will; it was what that fight did to the soldiers involved. In all his time here, he hadn't seen a single genuine smile or heard a laugh that wasn't tinged with bitterness. In a way, it was probably lucky that he had so much experience hating himself, since the man he was apparently destined to turn into was one of the most unsettling bastards he'd ever met. In fact, Dean had officially decided that he just couldn't stand to be around his future self any longer.
He tried explaining all that to Cas, loading up his banged-up truck while battling a massive load of guilt. Okay, so he hadn't actually asked the former angel to stay on Earth and lose all his powers, but apparently at some point he would, and that made him responsible for the wreck Castiel had become. He stammered out a bunch of half-hearted apologies that he knew weren't getting anywhere near penetrating the morphine haze Cas had plunged himself into. When Cas shrugged off Dean's final attempt to explain himself and lurched into the passenger seat, Dean initially assumed he was just too confused to know what was going on.
"Cas... you can't sleep here. I'm leaving tonight. Right now."
"I got that," the former angel slurred. "I'm coming with you."
Cas would slow him down; Dean knew that. He was too messed up to be of any use in a fight, and things would only get worse once he went into withdrawl. But leaving him behind was just impossible. It was something his future self would have no problem with, but Dean couldn't let himself be that far gone yet. So he climbed behind the wheel and hoped Castiel would sleep for most of the trip to wherever it was they ended up going.
Chapter 1
"Turn left here." Castiel ground his teeth as he spoke, and Dean turned to regard him warily. The former angel looked like hell; if Dean hadn't known it was the cravings doing it he'd have been worried Cas was succumbing to the Croatoan virus. At least he'd stopped scratching himself bloody; that was something to be grateful for.
"You don't get to decide where we go," he reminded his passenger. They'd already lost two days trying to find a guy Cas knew who could get them "supplies." Those supplies turned out to be some lethal knockoff of ether the scumbag cooked up in his basement. Cas had very nearly broken Dean's arm as the hunter wrestled him back into the truck.
"The wife lives near here," Castiel spit out. "We can't come so close and just drive on past. It'd be rude."
Dean choked on his surprise. "You're married?" He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Cas' wife would make of the orgies he'd seen far too much of in the past couple of weeks.
"Naw," Castiel replied. "Well, technically yes, but I don't even know if she's still alive. Fuck, I hope she's not, to be honest. It's not my wife I want to see, Dean. It's yours."
Dean very nearly drove off the road. "I have a wife?"
Getting details out of Castiel turned out to be pretty much impossible. Cas might be a drug addict and an alcoholic, but he wasn't an idiot, and once he figured out that Dean was essentially dying of curiousity, he worked out pretty quickly how to get what he wanted. Which was why, thirty minutes later, Dean found himself parked in the driveway of a rundown farmhouse, wishing really hard for something to punch.
How the hell could he be married? With the world collapsing at an alarming speed, his friends dead and his brother playing host to the devil himself, he somehow found the time to meet a girl? Split a can of Spam with her and steal a ring off a corpse that wouldn't be needing it anymore? None of it made any sense, and he actually found himself hoping this was just Cas' new plan to score some drugs.
"Wait here." Castiel's instructions cut into Dean's troubled thoughts. "She... she might not be too happy to see you, not after the last time. I'll try to explain things to her."
Great. He was married to a woman who hated his guts. Well, that should be no surprise. At least she had taste.
He watched Castiel stride past sigils and hop over the lines of salt to knock on the front door. Minutes ticked by painfully slowly. He wondered how long it had been since Cas last saw this mysterious wife of his. Maybe she didn't even live here anymore. Hell, for all either of them knew she could be dead. It would just be one more person he'd managed to fail in the last five years.
Castiel was pounding with both hands now. Dean was about to call out to him not to bother - this was clearly a waste of time - when the door cracked open. He strained his neck trying to catch a glimpse of the woman who'd answered it, and was stunned to see Castiel throw his arms around her and kiss her deeply.
What the everloving fuck?
Cas followed the woman inside, the door slamming shut behind him. Dean buried his face in his hands and tried to get his head to stop spinning. He made a list of the things he knew.
The world was fucked up beyond all recognition. Humanity was being picked off like fish in a barrel. Bobby was dead, Sam was Lucifer's meatsuit, Cas was human and apparently having an affair with the woman Dean had married.
He missed Hell. Things were simpler there.
The sky darkened and the night grew colder. Dean shivered. He didn't have enough gas to keep the car running for heat and the pair inside the house weren't showing any signs of emerging. He couldn't bring himself to go and knock; whatever they were doing he was pretty sure it was nothing he wanted to interrupt. Should he just go? After all, Cas was in a safe place and whoever this girl was she wasn't anything to him now.
He was just about to turn the key when the door opened again.
Castiel came down the driveway with a new spring in his step. He was wearing clean clothes, Dean noticed, and his hair was wet as if from a shower. He was followed by a slender blonde who kept her head down low.
Cas stuck his head through the window. "I think we're going to be all right. Sorry to keep you waiting."
"No problem," Dean snapped. "I'm sure there are wolves that would have been happy to keep me company after a while. Is that her?"
"It is." The girl spoke with a slow Southern drawl partially obscured by what sounded like a two pack a day habit. Castiel stepped back and Dean watched as his supposed wife swept back her hair and regarded him steadily.
Scars. His first impression was of scars. The whole left side of the woman's face was a mangle of twisted burns and shiny-skinned patches. Dean nearly retched.
Was that from him? Had he somehow done this to her?
He forced his gaze away from the ruin of her left cheek and made himself meet her eyes. His stomach twisted with recogition.
"Hello, Dean. It's been a while. Longer for you than for me, if what Cas says is accurate."
He made himself answer. Whatever had happened between them, he owed her that.
"Hey, Jo."
Jo Harvelle tilted her head towards the house. "Why don't you come inside?"
Chapter 2
So, in 2014, Jo apparently owned a fucking arsenal.
Dean had to shift a cache of shotguns and rifles to the ground just to find a place to sit down. Cas, much more at ease, reclined on the floor. Jo busied herself in the kitchen, as if estranged-husbands-to-be dropped in every day, and she knew the protocol for dealing with them involved refreshments.
"He shouldn't be drinking," Dean warned her as she handed Castiel a glass of tawny liquid.
"It's apple juice," she reassured him. "I make it from the crabapples. It's not bad, once you get used to it, and we could all use the vitamens."
"It's evil sludge." Castiel made a face at his cup. "I just want a drop of something to take the edge off. Come on, Jo; I know you've got it around here somewhere. Once a bargirl, always a bargirl and all that."
"Not a chance." She leaned in close, taking in the sweating, the shaking, the twitching of his jaw. "And none of the rest of it either. It stops. As long as you're around me, you're not doing that shit." She glared at Dean. "How could you let him get to this point?"
"It was nothing to do with me!" Dean objected. "The last time I saw him, the guy was an angel!"
Jo lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. "So... 2009, huh?"
"Yeah," Dean confirmed. "October."
She turned to Castiel. "And he knows nothing?"
"Nothing. I thought maybe we should tell him together."
"Excuse me." Dean had always had a thing about people talking through him. "I just wanted to point out that I'm actually right here. If you two wanted to let me in on whatever it is you're talking about, that would be just peachy, thanks."
"Was he already an asshole in 2009?" Jo asked. "I can't remember."
"I've always been an asshole," Dean reminded her. "But I'm an asshole you married? When did that happen?"
"2011," Jo told him. "Just before Christmas. I think I've still got the pictures; I'll get them our for you in the morning."
"It was a nice wedding," Castiel chimed in. "You looked gorgeous."
"I looked like overcooked meat." Jo rubbed at her scars. "But you're right. It was a nice wedding."
"How did it happen?" Dean hadn't known how to ask but since Jo had brought it up it felt like the right time.
"The wedding?"
"Your scars."
"Oh." She rubbed them again. "I was in an explosion. It was bad. Momma... she died then. You thought I did too; when I finally found you again, you were so happy. I think I worked out right then that you actually loved me. You put your arms around me and you kissed me, scars and all, and I thought, he really-" She broke off and swallowed a sob. "Sorry. Shit, I'm sorry. I told myself I wasn't going to do this."
Dean felt paralysed. Ellen was gone, dead and gone. And Jo... whatever he had done to Jo it must have been bad to make her cry like that. He wanted to do something, offer her some comfort, but how could he atone for something he hadn't done yet?
Cas eased her into his lap. "It's all right, honey. It's all right."
He wrapped his arms around her, stroked her hair gently. Dean watched them, torn between jealousy and gratitude. So he'd loved Jo and he'd married her. And somehow, he'd messed that up. But she'd had Cas; they obviously meant a lot to each other. It still didn't make sense, though. Him fucking up his marriage, sure. He could see that. But why was Cas living with the Dean from the future, having orgies with random women, when he had a girl he cared so much about?
"It's fine." Jo smiled and pulled away from Cas. "I survived. That's what matters. I'm still here, as strange as that seems some days."
"So... I didn't do that to you?" Dean hated to press her, but he had to know. "You and I, we got together after the explosion?"
"You didn't do it," Jo confirmed. "We were actually together for a little bit before the explosion, but it still wasn't your fault."
Dean sagged with relief. "So we got married..." That still sounded strange in his mouth. "We got married and then you met Cas?" It was awkward to ask, but they certainly weren't hiding it, and Dean felt like he needed to know what was going on.
Jo glanced at Castiel. He cocked an eyebrow at her, but she shook her head. "I knew Cas before too." She stubbed out her cigarette. "You know what? I can't do this now. I get that you've got questions and I'll get to them; I swear I will. But I'm tired, Dean. It's been a very strange day." She got to her feet. "We'll talk in the morning. I'll show you where you can sleep."
"We can't just move in on you," Dean objected.
"You don't want to stay here?" Jo suddenly sounded very young.
"It's not that-"
"We're staying." Castiel sounded firm. "I'm not getting back in that fucking truck tonight. Every time we take a corner, I feel like my intestines are coming up. We'll sleep here and we'll talk in the morning."
That seemed to have settled it. The two of them headed upstairs, and Dean, with nothing else to do, trailed after them. He tucked himself into the narrow bed Jo provided, dislodging several more weapons in the process. He felt sleep tugging on him almost instantly; he was far more tired than he'd realized. He expected Castiel to follow Jo to bed, but when the other man lay down next to him, his body pressed against Dean's on the thin mattress, he was only surprised by how totally unsurprised he was.
Chapter 3
Dean was woken by the sound of Castiel's screams. The former angel thrashed in his sleep like he was being tortured, all four limbs straining in search of something he couldn't find. Dean almost shook him awake, but he changed his mind at the last minute. Being awake probably wasn't any better for Cas; at least this way he'd end up rested.
Falling back asleep was going to be impossible. Dean stretched, working out the kinks in his neck. He wondered if Jo was up yet.
She wasn't, so Dean wandered around the large, cluttered house. He wondered who it belonged to. Not that it mattered; the original occupants were probably long dead.
He found the scrapbooks in the cellar; they were bright spots of floral-print paper against the overall gloom of the room. He couldn't help but grin as he opened the first one and found an old polaroid of Jo, sulking in a rose-sprigged lacy dress as her mother held her hand with a rueful smile.
Dean was going to miss Ellen.
Intrigued, he went through the rest of the book. Photos of a young Jo, freckle-faced and pigtailed, filled the pages. Her parents watched her grow in the background, both of them at first and later just Ellen. It was sweet, he thought, this little kid growing up all innocent. No idea of what the future was going to hold for her.
He reached for another one. His smile faded off his face.
The first page held an old, yellowed clipping from a newspaper. The picture was of a bombed-out building, utterly flattened. Wreckage smoked ominously.
"That's how we lost Ellen."
Dean jumped. He'd been so involved in the scrapbooks, he hadn't heard Castiel come down the stairs.
"It looks like a war scene." Dean felt sick of the thought of Ellen burning inside the ruin.
"It was, actually. The beginning of a war." Castiel shut his eyes briefly. "Back then, we still thought we could win. If it helps at all, I don't think she would have suffered. She and Jo couldn't have been more than a few feet from the bomb when it went off. It would have been instant."
"She and Jo were together?" Castiel nodded. "Then how did Jo manage to survive?"
"She didn't. I went back after; I brought her back."
"How?"
"It was before... all this." Castiel made a gesture that seemed to encompass his shaking, weakened body.
"But..." Dean checked the date on the article. "December, 2009. That was after you rebelled. You couldn't fix Bobby's legs, but you could bring Jo back from the dead?"
"I didn't know I could do it. When I went back, I just wanted to see about giving them a proper burial. When I found her body, I just touched it, just for a second. And then she was back." He stared at his hands. "I haven't been able to do it since, not even to fix the scars. I can't explain it; it's just... I loved her. I had to help."
Dean drew a deep breath. "Cas... when I found out about you two, was I really pissed off? Is that when things started to go wrong with us?"
Cas shook his head. "You were happy."
"Happy?" Okay, he was hoping he hadn't acted like too much of a dickhead, but he couldn't imagine shaking his best friend's hand and wishing him a good time with his stolen woman.
Castiel looked resolute. "We were all happy."
The stairs creaked. "Hey? Where are you guys?"
Dean started. Feeling like he'd gotten caught reading a teenager's diary, he tossed the scrapbooks behind a stack of old newspapers seconds before Jo appeared.
She was dressed in a workshirt and old jeans, carrying a sawed-off shotgun. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Just looking around." Dean hoped he wasn't blushing too much.
"Well, visiting hours are over. Two of my traps were sprung last night. And that means there's likely to be nasties way closer than we want them. Grab a couple of weapons boys; it's time to earn your breakfast."
"You've got to be kidding." Cas gave his dry, humorless laugh. "In case you'd forgotten, Jo, I don't hunt anymore. A lover, not a fighter and all that."
"And in case you'd forgotten, I don't listen to bullshit. Get a gun. I'll meet you in the car in five minutes." She swept up the stairs.
Castiel rooted through the weapons. "I never could say no to that girl."
Dean watched him load a rifle. His hands were already trembling, and they were nowhere near danger. "Cas, can you do this? If not, I'll square things with Jo. We'll be fine just the two of us, I promise."
For the first time since he'd arrived in 2014, Dean saw an actual smile spread across his old friend's face. "Well I'll be damned."
"What?"
"You're... you're just so you, aren't you?" Castiel leaned forward and brushed Dean's lips with his own. "I'll do what I can. Come on."
Dean followed, telling himself that the adreneline surging through his veins just due to anticipation of the fight.
Chapter 4
In case Dean didn't have enough reasons to hate 2014, it decided to throw were-eagles at him. Were-eagles the size of SUVs, strong enough to smash through brick walls. Just fucking wonderful.
They didn't need a full moon, Jo had explained. Their transformations were triggered by fear, pain or anger. Naturally, in this day and age that meant they were in their creature-forms the vast majority of the time.
Dean had no idea if these things were genetic mutations from werewolves or if someone had created them in a lab to be a particular menace, but they were a bitch to kill. Not only did he have to hit a target that could vanish into the clouds, but when he managed to nail one through the heart, it reverted to a human corpse and came crashing down to Earth in a mess of blood, guts and splintered bone.
Seriously, were-eagles. Could this year get any more messed up? Luckily, Jo had the foresight to stock her car with a good supply of silver bullets but they were already running dangerously low on ammunition and Dean didn't want to think about what might happen if they ran out.
Dean growled in frustration, longing for a higher vantage point. He ran to the highest tree he could spot, quickly engaging the safety on his gun and tucking it into the waistband of his pants. If he could climb to the higher branches, he'd be that much closer to his targets.
He hadn't gotten more than ten feet up before a pair of the freakish things noticed him. Like patriot missiles, they swerved and honed in on him, beaks gaping open and claws outstreched, Dean ducked, covering himself as well as he could with the leaves. He felt talons score his back. Fuck. He just hoped they needed an actual bite to infect him.
The were-eagles turned in the air and came back at him. Dean fumbled for his gun, swearing frantically. They'd been attacking the whole group so far; why the hell were they suddenly focusing in on him?
Luckily, he wasn't the only one who noticed. Castiel and Jo ran to the base of the tree, firing desperately at the attacking birds.
"Dean! Dean, get out of there! There's a nest!"
Dean searched the branches above him. He could just make out the dark shadows of a nest in the upper branches. Were there eggs in there? Oh shit.
The other were-eagles had noticed him now and were coming to join their companions in the attack. Dean scrambled out of the tree, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his back. Another eagle passed within inches of him, and he instinctively threw his hands up to defnd himself. His balance was already unsteady; he lost his footing and fell seven feet to the rocky ground, his gun clattering along the stones and out of sight.
Pain blossomed in his ankle and quickly spread through the rest of his body. Frantic, he tried to haul himself towards cover, searching the ground for his weapon. A dark shape shot out of the air, heading straight for him. He threw his arms over his head, and hoped it would at least be quick.
Death by bird. Could his luck be any worse?
The expected attack didn't come. Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel standing over him, shielding him with his body The former angel aimed and shot, hitting the nearest were-eagle through the heart. It shrieked once and transformed; the body plummeting back to Earth and splitting open on the ground.
Another eagle screamed in the air, as if mourning its mate. It came out of the sky like a crashing plane. Dean watched, helpless, as the thing grabbed hold of Castiel, lifting him into the air as if he weighed nothing at all.
Jo cursed and took aim. Her shot went wide; the creature was just moving too fast. Already, Cas and the were-eagle were little spots against the sky.
Fear made Dean dizzy. There was just no way he could let Cas die for him, not like this. He searched the ground for his gun but it was nowhere do be found. Knowing it was a bad idea, but without any other option, Dean hobbled back towards the tree and began to climb.
The were-eagles responded immediately. They came at him with incredible speed. Dean heard shots below him, saw one fall as Jo scored a hit. They were closer now; Dean could see Castiel struggling weakly in the grip of one of the massive birds. Jo fired again, and the third creature fell out of the sky. Only the one who had Cas was left.
It circled above them, clearly deciding whether or not it would be safer to just fly off elsewhere and enjoy its tasty little snack. Dean climbed higher, waving his arms in the air to get its attention.
"Hey! Hey you! I'm thinking of making myself a nice omelet! What goes better with your kiddies, mushrooms or ham?"
The were-eagle screamed and dropped Cas. Dean heard him hit the ground with a sickening thud. The eagle closed in on him; it was so close that he could see the fury in its inhuman golden eyes. He tightened his grip on the branch, knowing it was useless. He wouldn't be able to hold on once that thing got hold of him.
He just hoped Cas was all right. If he'd been able to save Cas, it would have been worth it.
Claws pierced his skin and he hollered. Then, a shot rang out and he was hit by the weight of a human corpse collapsing on top of him. His branch gave way and he fell, mercifully blacking out before he hit the stones.
Chapter 5
Dean woke up, blissfully unaware of where he was. He was conscious of a soft mattress, a slender figure kneeling between his spread knees. For a minute, that was enough to put him in a great mood. Then he felt his ankle throb, and he remembered.
"I've splinted it." Jo snipped the bandage as she spoke. "I'm not sure if it's broken or just sprained, but it won't really matter for treating it. I haven't had any plaster for months. You'll just have to stay off it. Does it hurt?"
"Not too bad," Dean lied. "How's Cas."
"Out cold," Jo replied. "I need to look him over, but I wanted you to wake up first. I'm not sure he wasn't bitten, and if he was I'm going to need help in case he transforms. I've got him tied up in the kitchen, if you can walk that far."
Dean tested his foot. He gasped as the pain shot through him the second he put his weight on it.
"Hang on a second." Jo ran up the stairs, emerging with two little green pills and a cup of water. "Take these."
Dean swallowed them. "What are they?"
She shrugged. "I don't know, but they work for pain. I don't have a lot though, so try not to take them unless you need them. Ready to see Cas?"
Dean hobbled towards the kitchen. "You know, when he wakes up, he's going to want something for the pain."
"I know."
"Are you going to give him anything?"
"I don't know, Dean!" Jo's eyes flashed with anger. "I'm not a doctor. What happens when you give an addict the unlabelled pills you found in a car wreck? Is it better or worse than letting him shit himself with pain?" She rubbed her eyes wearily. "With any luck, maybe he won't be too badly hurt."
Against all odds, that appeared to be the case. Castiel, lying on his stomach on the kitchen table with his wrists and ankles bound, was heavily bruised and had a few deep cuts but Dean couldn't even spot any obvious bone fractures. Dean still couldn't keep from wincing at the sight of his injuries. "He fell so far. How is he even alive?"
Jo shrugged. "Angels are hard to kill."
"But... he's not an angel anymore. He told me he broke his foot last year."
"Anyone else would have lost the leg. Probably bled to death. Dean, Cas doesn't really get how fragile humans are. He eats, he sleeps and he hurts, so he thinks he's human. But he's still a lot more powerful that he realizes. A lot stronger and more resiliant than anyone else. It drives you - the other you - insane that he doesn't get that."
From what Dean could tell, straddling Castiel's legs while Jo checked him for bite marks or serious injuries, that seemed to be true. A few of Cas' wounds already looked days old; he was healing fast.
A jailhouse-style tattoo covered Cas' upper back, spreading along his rib cage. Dean reached out without realizing what he was doing, stroked the delicate Enochian symbols that he knew were carved into his own bones.
"You did that for him," Jo told him. "Once we worked out that the angels were never going to leave him alone. He didn't have enough grace left to do it the way he did for you, so you helped him."
"Didn't know I was such an artist."
Jo shrugged. "Help me turn him over."
They rolled him onto his back, careful to spare him further injury. Jo resumed her search while Dean just stared, utterly confused.
There were two more tattoos on Castiel's chest. The first was a pale blue heart shape, with 'Jo' written in the center. Its twin was just beneath it, an identical blue heart bearing the name 'Dean'.
"No bites." Jo climbed down from the table. "He was lucky."
"Jo?" She looked up. "What's with those?"
Jo followed Dean's eyes to the tattoos. She drew a deep breath. "This isn't how either of us wanted to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Dean was sick and tired of everyone knowing more about his life than he did. It was well past sharing time. "Did I leave you for him? Is that why he was living with me?" It made sense; Dean hadn't been with a guy since high school, but Cas had always had a pull on him. And if it hadn't worked out, seeing Cas with all those women would have been enough to make Dean about as pissed off with the former angel as his future self was. But then why did Cas and Jo get along so well? Had Dean been such a shitty husband that Jo was glad to see him gone?
He opened his mouth to ask, but the sight of her peeling off her shirt sucked the words out of his mouth.
He noticed two things.
First, Jo had sensational tits. All the rough living in the world couldn't change that.
Second, she had two pale blue hearts tattooed on her chest. One said 'Dean'. The other said 'Castiel'.
"You've got... or the other you has... fuck, this is confusing." Jo pulled her shirt closed, her fingers shaking on the snaps. "The Dean from this time has got two as well. A 'Jo' and a 'Cas'. You didn't want it to say 'Castiel'; you said he was always Cas to you. We got them just before our wedding; we couldn't afford rings."
"It was the three of us. The three of us were lovers." There was no other explanation for it.
"Yeah."
"That is so majorly fucked up."
Jo glared at him. "Dean, I've done your gay panic thing once already. I'm not patient enough to go through it again."
"It's not gay panic." Den shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. "It's how did I get this fucked up panic. And it's pretty damn justified! How did this even-" He broke off, studying the delicate curve of her neck, letting his eyes fall to Castiel's high collarbone. He remembered the swell of her breasts, the way Cas' hips felt under his while Jo was doing the examination. "This was my sick idea, wasn't it? Jo, I'm a pervert; I've known that for a while. But you two didn't need to-"
"Don't you call it sick!" Jo was furious now; Dean could see that clearly. "It wasn't sick, and it wasn't perverted! If you knew what you were saying..." She trailed off. "But you don't know, do you?" The anger drained slowly off her face. "You don't have any idea." She reached for a blanket and covered Cas, gently tucking the tattoos under the cover. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
Chapter 6
The album Jo handed Dean was nothing like her other scrapbooks. While the rest were tattered and yellowing, this one was covered in clean white leather and obviously carefully preserved. Dean opened it nervously, not knowing what he might find.
The first picture was of him and Jo. In the photo, he was wearing the type of scratchy suit he usually avoided like the plague, but he was grinning from ear to ear, beaming in a way he knew he hadn't for a long time. Jo in her long white dress was radiant beside him, her smile making her scars irrelevant.
"It's our wedding," Jo told him, unnecessarily. Dean nodded, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak.
He turned the page. The next picture was a group shot. Jo was in the middle, with Castiel and Dean on either side of her. Sam stood at Dean's other side, his goofy smile making him look like an overgrown kid. Bobby in his wheelchair sat beside Sam, obviously trying hard not to look choked up by the whole event.
Dean reached out and stroked his brother's face with one finger. "Sam."
"He was your best man." Jo lit a cigarette and reached out to touch the picture as well. "Cas was my man of honor." She shrugged. "We just told people I didn't know many girls."
"Were we... was it already the three of us?"
"It was always the three of us." She flipped to the next page. The next photo showed Jo and Castiel with their arms around each other. Cas was kissing the top of her head while Jo smiled joyfully at the camera.
They looked so happy that Dean couldn't help but smile back at the image. "Why did you marry me?"
"I loved you."
"No... I mean, why not him?"
Jo shrugged. "He was already married." She blew smoke into the air. "I won't say it was perfect, Dean, but we always came back to each other." Tentatively, she put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you to think I was settling. I wanted to marry you. I loved you."
Dean flipped to the next page and then slammed the book shut. It was no use. The photo of the three of them, he and Cas kissing passionately while Jo wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, was unforgettable.
"Careful!" Jo grabbed ber album from him and cradled it to her chest. "It's the only one I have."
Dean rubbed his sore eyes. "How did it happen? What started it?" He couldn't imagine it. Plucky, spunky little Jo was one of the last people he'd ever want to corrupt. And Cas... Cas with his firm faith that God would help him, that redemption was possible. How had he let this happen?
"We were going to die, Dean." Jo carefully placed the big white book on a shelf. "We were sure of it. A bunch of idiots, off the hunt the devil. We thought it was our last night, no question about it."
"I told him I didn't want him to die a virgin," Dean recalled.
"Yeah, he remembered that. He thought it was actually important to you, like some great moral obligation you needed to satisfy before you could rest." She laughed ruefully. "Not that I was especially up for doing it for charity, but I liked him. I more than liked him; I'd only just met him but... hell, you know Cas. There's something about him, isn't there?"
There definitely was. "And I what? Walked in and figured I'd join the party?"
She shook her head. "Cas went to get you. He said it wouldn't be right without you. God, Dean. I'd never seen you as nervous as you were that night. You kept saying, 'I'd better die tomorrow; I'd really better.'" She laughed. "But it was true. It wouldn't have been right without you; it wasn't. We tried it for a while, after you left. It didn't work. So he went after you, and that didn't work either. I don't know how he worked it out, that there needed to be the three of us. Maybe it was just an angel thing."
Dean could picture the scene. The two of them waking him up in the night. Jo, unscarred and beautiful, looking like everything that every hunter told himself he was fighting for, and then Cas with his wide eyes and sad mouth. The two of them would have been fucking gorgeous together, and they'd wanted him? Despite himself, he was flattered. Flattered and aroused and finding it very difficult to breathe.
"Jo... Jo I'm really sorry." He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but whatever it was he meant it.
"You've got nothing to be sorry for." She stretched out a hand to him, and he backed away.
They'd looked so in love in those pictures. So totally wrapped up in each other. What was it about those two that had made him think he could have that? What had made him think that this, three damaged, lost soliders, was anything but inevitable?
"I'm sorry," he said again as Jo dropped her hand, disappointment tranforming her face and making her look very tired again.
He stumbled up the stairs, ignoring the pain in his ankle.
He'd forgotten about Castiel, naked in the kitchen until he went looking for a much-needed glass of water. The sight of the battered body stopped him in his tracks. It had been hard enough seeing his friend bruised and cut before, but that was nothing compared to now. He would know that body; he would be inside it. If Jo wasn't lying, he would love and be loved by the angel inhabiting it, and the very thought was overwhelming.
As if he sensed Dean's presence, Castiel stirred on the table. He moaned, an obscenely intimate sound, and opened his eyes. Frightened, he struggled a bit against his bonds until he caught sight of Dean. And then he smiled.
It was all there in that smile. Jo and her photos had been telling the truth, Dean was certain of it now. He spun around on the spot and fled, knowing there was no where to go but needing to get away from the two of them, from the longing in her outstretched hand and the promises in his eyes.
Chapter 7
In post-apocalyptic wastelands it was kind of naive to not to map out working gas stations, but Dean hadn't been thinking straight. Which was why he found himself stranded by the side of the road with the sun going down and hoping the first person who stopped to offer him a ride wasn't going to be a Croatoan infested zombie.
He was in luck.
The first time he saw the brunette behind the wheel of the charger she had hit him across the face, but Dean figured beggers couldn't be choosers. He slid into the passenger seat and gave her what he hoped was a nice, don't-slap-me smile.
"Thanks for stopping. It's Risa, right?"
"Good to see you again, Dean. As your brother said to Lucifer, climb in."
They drove in silence for a while, Risa giving the road most of her attention. The street was winding and badly maintained, but she drove extremely quickly. After a couple of nauseating hairpoint turns, Dean felt the need to speak up.
"You can slow down, if you like. I mean, there's no point in killing ourselves getting back to camp. And I'm honestly in no hurry to get there."
Actually, he'd be glad never to see that place again, but there was nowhere else he could go. Jo's place was out of the question and Dean hadn't seen any other signs of human life in all the time he'd been driving.
"I'm in a hurry." She put more pressure on the accelerator.
"Oh, sorry. Is there trouble back at the camp?"
"Not anything out of the ordinary."
"Then why the rush?"
"This isn't my true vessel and it's falling to bits on me. I'd like to get out of it as soon as possible."
Dean's blood ran cold as Michael turned to him with a mirthless smile. "No."
"That's not your line, Dean."
Dean hit the pavement hard as he flung himself out of the car. The asphault ripped skin from his chest, thudded against his hip as he heard bones crack. He screamed in pain as he bounced along the road and into a ditch, landing face down in the rancid water. Too shocked to even yell again, he crept out of the muck on two damaged arms.
"I'd forgotten how much you like to showboat. It's endearing, up to a point. I'd appreciate you not breaking my vessel all to bits, but I can fix it up once I get in." Michael rolled Risa's eyes as Dean dragged himself back onto the road.
"No," he panted. "I'm saying no."
The archangel laughed in disbelief. "Honestly? I admire determination, but this is ridiculous. Humanity is eating itself from the inside out, new breeds of creatures develop every week, and even the great Dean Winchester admits the battle is lost. What exactly are you clinging to?"
Dean spit mud from his mouth. "I'm not admitting anything."
"Not you, you fool. But if I were to give you five years, I think it's safe to say you'd come around. I thought you might want to spare yourself that."
Dean lay his head down on the road, too sore to raise it. "Use him. Use the Dean who wants you. Leave me be."
"But I want you." Michael crouched next to Dean. This close up, the hunter could see Risa's pretty skin starting to rot at the temples. "I want the proud hunter who stood up to me and said no so many times. It's a matter of principle."
Dean tried to spit at him, but all he managed was a thin line of saliva and blood that drooled down his chin.
The archangel laughed. "Of course, with the other Dean as a back-up, I can play with this body a bit. If it breaks down while I'm convincing you, I can settle for his." A fierce pain shot through Dean's side as he felt the flesh there rip. Blood poured onto the ground beneath him as he tried to staunch the wound with his hand.
"No." He said it through gritted teeth, but he said it.
"Not overly attached to your guts? How about the pretty face then?"
Dean's vision filled up with red as blood ran down his face. He was glad not to see the sores Michael had created on his face; he could tell from the pain they were horrific.
"You know something Dean? I figure I can make Risa's meatsuit last another couple of days at the rate I'm using it up. As you know, I don't need to sleep. So you've got another 48 hours of this coming unless you decide to make it easy on yourself."
Dean opened his mouth to say 'no' again, but he couldn't make the sound. There was blood and bile in his throat; he could barely breathe through it. 'Yes' would come easily enough though; he was sure of that.
"Get away from him!"
Dean struggled to see through the gore covering his eyes. Michael's head snapped around as he saw Jo and Castiel climbing out of the car. The archangel snorted. "Honestly? Okay, she's got spirit, pointless spirit but still... but you, Castiel? Aren't you at least too embarassed to bother me any-"
Cas clapped his hands together and Michael was cut off mid-taunt by a burst of light and wind. Dean shut his eyes against the glare.
Castiel's voice in the darkness was quietly amused. "At least I don't vanish when someone does the sigil trick. Assbutt." He gasped when he saw the extent of Dean's injuries. "Dean! Dean, are you all right?"
Jo knelt in front of him with a flask of water. She pressed it against his lips. "Drink, don't try to talk."
Swallowing was difficult. Dean rinsed his mouth and tried again. Castiel pulled off his jacket and dipped a sleeve in the ditchwater, began sponging blood from Dean's body.
"C-cas?" Oh, it hurt to talk. "Jo? You're all right?"
"Don't worry about us." Jo inspected the wounds on Dean's face. "Cas, he's going to need stitches."
"He's going to need a lot more than that. Jo, we're going to have to move him."
She nodded. "Dean, is there any chance your neck or your back is broken? We're going to have to try and lift you and we don't have a stretcher."
Dean managed to get the 'no' out this time. He felt Jo seize his shoulders, Cas take hold of his ankles. As they lifted him off the ground, the pain that shot through his body made all the other injuries feel like nothing at all. But as they loaded him into the back seat of the car, Cas crawling in beside him to try and brace him against the bumps on the road, he felt that, all evidence to the contrary, he just might be safe.
Part 2 is here: http://thinlizzy2.livejournal.com/4812.html