The Universe's Mixer

Jo wasn't usually the type to wear a dress, except for when she was going undercover for something or other. In fact, she very rarely wore anything other than jeans. Which was why she was a little frustrated with the City (or whomever might have broken into her apartment and left clothes in her closet) for filling her closet with dresses and dressy pants and shirts.

Not that she would have shown up for dinner in jeans and a ratty flannel shirt, but she resented that the choice was being taken out of her hands. She finally grudgingly settled on a flowered sundress that was cute but not overly formal.

She didn't really know what to make of her dinner plans for the night. Ted was sweet, if not her normal type in many ways. All the same, there was something sort of refreshing about that. He wasn't a hunter, which was extremely appealing actually. Most hunters seemed to be loners who didn't do all that well with relationships. Or they just went off and... well, she wasn't going to think about what had happened to her first boyfriend.

While it was all she knew, and there was a part of her that was definitely drawn to those types, the idea of getting out of her wheelhouse sounded kind of nice.

She was more nervous than she'd expected so by the time she pulled her truck into the parking lot of the building that housed the mayor's office, Jo's mind was a bit blank. She had kept the shotgun as well as a few other hunting supplies in a lockbox in the back of her truck. It never did hurt to be prepared and Ted had seemed more than willing to have that extra protection around. There was also a small vial of holy water, a knife, and some salt in her purse.

Once a hunter, always a hunter. She might look like a normal twenty-something woman, but she never really left the hunter side of her personality at home.

Ted had gotten Jo's message about the ghost, and had been about to run over to the house and buy it up when the streets and everything else had begun to move again. Which was also about the time when the coffers had filled themselves back up, and his efforts of looking for investments to tide the City over were nullified.

Partly glad for it, and partly annoyed because of the amount of work, Ted hadn't known quite what to do. He sat at his desk for a while, staring at the top of it. Jo's number was scribbled on the front of his planner, right under his nose. When his eyes floated over it, he made a decision.

He dialed her number before he could talk himself out of it. Listened to it ring, making sure he didn't overthink things as he waited. There was a click that told him either she'd picked up, or her voicemail had, and he just started talking.

"Jo. This is Ted, from the haunted house. Haunted house. That sounds really stupid said out loud. Do you call it something different? Probably. Anyway. I was thinking I'd like to take you to dinner as a thanks, if you'd want to do that. Maybe drinks after? There's this Italian place that everyone in the office keeps talking about. We could go there. Or anywhere you'd like."

Realizing that he'd just spit out a whole lot of words and hadn't any idea if there was somebody actually on the other end of the line, he paused, waiting to see if there would be an answer, or the telltale beep of a message run too long.

Jo had dispatched with the bones of the ghost in that house. She'd left Ted a message that it was all clear, though she was a little bit disappointed that she'd only gotten his voicemail. She'd also left him her number if he wanted to call back, though she wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't.

It seemed that she had a whole laundry list of things to look into in the City because her next stop was the park. She'd heard a lot of odd stories about a house on chicken legs, and that sounded like something that might need looking into.

She didn't exactly know where to start, so she just picked a path through the park and began to walk. A giant chicken house couldn't be that hard to spot, right?

The City Hall was chosen because it held a room within it that was big enough to accommodate the droves of people that were sure to come. Plus, being inside space, there were no worries over weather that couldn't be controlled. The people could sit and listen and not have to try to hear past traffic or wind.

Even with the late notice, everything was done well before the scheduled start time, which Thomas was proud of. He was glad that the ones who were born here weren't entirely useless without him around. They were keeping their heads together, doing what needed to be done. Of course, it also could have been the fact that they believed Thomas was who he claimed to be, and with his presence there with them, they felt better about the situation they were currently in.

Thomas looked at the stage. That's where he would be standing, talking to the people he had brought here. He had no doubts that they would be the ones with the questions, the ones who demanded answers. He was ready. He could do this.

He sat in a seat hidden by a curtain, where he could still see the stage and the rows of chairs beyond, and waited.

Ted was checking out houses and condos for investment purposes. He'd had an idea shortly after Lois Lane had left his office for keeping the City in money and helping it's residents at the same time. City housing. The City would buy the houses and keep them maintained, while the rent would be cheaper so that the poorer and disabled residents of the City could afford to be in nicer areas with better resources around them.

Property generally only rose in value. Even when the market failed, the property itself didn't really lose it's spot, just what one could charge for it did. But it always rose again eventually.

He'd decided to scout some locations and draw up a proposal before going to the Mayor with it. A vague idea wasn't any good, you had to have numbers to back it up. Evidence that it was a good idea. Ted knew this. He also knew that the mayor was a busy guy and that bothering him with the very beginnings of a plan would probably only cause more work for him. He liked the mayor, he didn't want to add pressure to a job that was already difficult with the things going on.

There were already spots that Ted liked, his list was growing, but it was all condos and co-ops so far. No actual houses. He felt that having a house, some place that could have more than one person in them at a time possibly, would be a good idea too. There was a bigger side to this plan, of course, in the name of buying a whole apartment building, but that had to be worked up to.

Seeing an address without a door number attached to it attracted Ted and he skipped down several spots to visit that one next. He'd get to the others, he was sure. But houses went quickly. He wanted to see this one before anybody else had a chance to put a bid on it.

And it was a big house. He could see that from the outside when he arrived. But it looked so empty. Like nobody had lived there in a really long time. It wasn't so much neglect. Somebody was coming around to cut the grass and trim the hedges. But there was dust in the corners of the windows. The door knob looked shiny and untouched. The lock, when he got close enough to see, seemed freshly oiled.

But the door opened smoothly enough. He stepped inside and began to take notes on the things that he saw. Sure, every listing provided square footage and number of rooms. But seeing stuff for yourself always provided a much different view. A room with large footage might actually not fit a bed because it was an odd shape. Or a kitchen that seemed spacious might be so stuffed with cabinetry that you couldn't move.

Ted saw none of these issues. It made him all the more curious as to why nobody was living here, and why it seemed nobody had for a very long time.

He thought he heard something fall in another room and went to investigate, but found nothing. Then there was a scraping noise that he could feel into his bones, followed by a very disturbing giggling.

In a place where nothing could be ruled out anymore, Ted felt immediately suspicious and afraid. He went to the front door to leave, but discovered it wouldn't open. As he turned to try to find the back door, something flashed by him. Something unpleasant. He got a vague sense of blood and maybe a missing half of a face.

Ted became very still.

Dinah was doing the avoiding thing for the most part. Zee had tried to call and she'd sent a text telling her friend that she just needed some time and would call when she was ready. She didn't want to talk to her friends right now, but she did want to keep busy. Which meant that she'd been spending a lot of time working on getting the shop fixed up. She was currently sweeping up the glass and soon she would be installing the new windows that had just been delivered. Unlike the last time the shop had gotten trashed when the materials to fix it up had just magically appeared, Dinah had had to wait for everything to be delivered.

But it was here now, and working with her hands was exactly what she needed.

Working with her hands and... answers, really. She needed answers. She wanted to know what had happened to Jake. She needed to know if he had made it back home-even if she dreaded the confirmation of that news.

She knew how his story turned out. She knew that if he'd made it back home, he didn't have long before his death.

She knew all that.

But she still needed to know. Not knowing was driving her crazy.

Somewhere in the middle of sweeping up the last of the glass, it hit her. There might be someone in the City who could answer her questions. Someone who had shown up when they'd needed him most. She still didn't know if he was a god-or God, capital G, or just a guy with god-like abilities. She really didn't know what to believe in that.

She also didn't know how to get ahold of him, and she wasn't usually much for praying.

All the same, she did say a little prayer. She wasn't sure if she should say it silently or out loud. And she wasn't really sure if she was wasting her time or not.

"Um, Jesse. If you're out there, I could really use someone to talk to right now. I suppose if you are around, you're probably busy with more important things. Assuming you can hear me at all. But if you can hear me and you're not too busy... I could really use your help."

A tear slipped down her cheek as she admitted out loud that she needed help, but she just swiped at it and went back to sweeping. She didn't expect an answer, but she'd tried anyway.

Jensen was feeling pretty thrashed emotionally after Fred left. It didn't help that she pretty much told him how much of an ass he was. He didn't need her to tell him that. He knew that already, but damn it he was allowed to be pissed off! And hurt. But you don't tell people you're hurt when you're a guy. No. What you do is you text message another guy that you were in a vulnerable place right now and wanted to do something stupid like go out and get drunk off of whiskey and hurricane shots in an effort to numb the ouchy parts, possibly get in a pointless and needless fight and he should come be supportive. That translates to:

Dude. Girls suck. Beers? Sent to Logan's phone. Logan, who responded in kind to something that translated into: I totally understand and sympathize, man. Why yes I would be happy to meet you for imbibing alcohol and support you in your hour of need for indulgance and school yard behaviour. Still won't bail you out of jail, though.

Logan had the night off and suggested another bar to go to, some place called The Roadhouse. Jensen had texted back saying if Patrick Swayze was going to be there to not be nice when it was time it was a no go. He was assured there would be no Swayze ass kicking so to the Roadhouse it was. He showed up with the mostly dead flowers and tossed them on the bar in front of Logan before sliding onto a barstool. "Here. Don't say I never gave you anything."

The City was slowly devolving into a sort of panicked chaos. Jo could understand this, even if she wasn't all that broken up about the fact that streets were now stationary. Everything else, however, was a little bit nervewracking.

The Roadhouse still had a store of alcohol, but that was rapidly declining as people tried to drink away their concerns about the changed City and Jo could not for the life of her find where the shipments had come from before.

Which meant that she didn't worry too much about closing down the bar for a day. It was better than stressing about running out of booze, and she really wanted to check out what exactly was going on in the City.

She'd spotted the wall a few times, but it had seemed to go on forever. Now... well, the wall was high, but climbable. She'd brought gear to help with the climb and of course she had a gun, a knife, and a pack that held an EMF, rock salt, and a lighter. Just in case.

She was also dressed in the heaviest jacket she could find because the temperature in the usually pleasantly warm City was starting to drop and it had started to snow. She wasn't going to let the cold deter her though. Her curiosity won out over any desire to avoid the cold.

Once she touched down on the other side of the wall, she noticed that the trees were moving. And not from the wind. Which was... extremely eerie. All the same, she pressed on and kept walking through the forest until she came to an edge.

"Holy-" she muttered as she looked out over the drop off and saw stars. Lots and lots of stars and planets. They appeared to be moving, but then she realized that whatever planet or whatever it was that the City was on was actually the object that was moving.

She sat down, just a few inches from the edge and just stared in awe for a bit.

Sam had heard a rumor, and he wanted to check up on it, and make sure he wasn't completely crazy. Not that he had any doubt that it was possible. After all, he'd seen stranger things in the city--like King Kong on the front page news. But it had been him and Dean for so long--and most of the time these days they just did their own thing--that hearing about someone else from home was a bit of a surprise. So he headed off in search of the roadhouse, determined to keep driving until he found it.

And sure enough, he did.

There were at least two bars in town that seemed a bit out of the ordinary and were providing competition of a sort to the Roadhouse. Jo wasn't really sure what to make of either of them. Fangtasia was vampire friendly and apparently run by a vampire. She honestly didn't know why Dean, Sam and Cas hadn't just rallied together and swooped in and burned the whole place down, but Jo knew better than to go into something like that alone without getting the full story. Caritas was rumored to be run by a green-skinned demon but was a magically enforced neutral territory where no violence was allowed, or something along those lines.

She didn't think the crowds for the three bars would overlap all that well, considering that hunters tended to be anti-demon and anti-vampire, but apparently tonight everyone was drinking somewhere else. Jo sighed as she wiped down the bar counter top for possibly the fifth time tonight. It was tempting to just close up early since the bar was empty, but you never knew when there'd be a rush she supposed. However, by the time it was nearing closing time she'd given up on the idea of a rush or of making any money whatsoever for the night.

Jo had put off talking to Dean for a little bit. She hadn't meant to, but things had gotten busy. And then she'd happened to pass by a restaurant with large windows around the waiting area. Which meant she got the nice full view of Dean kissing his date-some gorgeous brunette in a little black dress. She'd seethed about that for awhile, though really it wasn't like he'd exactly led her on on New Years' Eve, unless one counted him going on about how important that midnight kiss was and then kissing her on the forehead.

Yeah, because nothing says 'I like you' like a nice sexy kiss on the forehead.

She knew she was being silly, but that didn't make her any less annoyed that he hadn't bothered to mention that he was dating someone. It just would have been nice to not feel out of the loop.

But none of that really mattered and that wasn't the reason she'd stopped by his place. She'd really wanted to make sure that she talked to him about taking jobs from Fred before Fred let it slip and got the business end of whatever chauvinist scolding he was going to give about how Jo apparently couldn't do the job.

When she found the building that had been listed under Dean's address, she'd had to double check it a few times to be sure.

A flower shop?

Dean Winchester was no longer living in a motel, but in an apartment over a flower shop?

She supposed it was fitting that the mayor was apparently from Wonderland, because 'curiouser and curiouser' was pretty damn fitting right about now.

Jo knocked on the door, hoping that she'd at least catch him at home.

Jo hadn't seen Dean since New Years'. Not that she actually expected anything differently. This was the guy who had once told her he'd 'call' and then essentially disappeared (and even died and then come back to life) for about 3 years.

He'd promised to show her around sometime and maybe introduce her to some of the people he knew here, but she wasn't going to hold her breath. She was hoping to meet Fred, the woman who was giving him cases. Dean had only told her about Fred well after midnight and after quite a few drinks. She supposed that he didn't exactly want her tagging along on hunts. She also wasn't going to try to poach Dean's leads or anything along those lines, but she was still a bit curious about the idea of a detective agency set up specifically to help people deal with supernatural threats.

All the same, Jo didn't exactly go looking for Angel Investigations. She had just taken to exploring the City. She was still a little bit thrown off by the moving streets and buildings, but it was just another obstacle to push through. And the best way to get used to it was to actually get out there and explore it.

So she hadn't been looking for Angel Investigations, but apparently the City had wanted it found all the same. When Jo turned a corner and her gaze fell on the small office building that was labelled as Angel Investigations, she couldn't help but wander over to it.

She pushed open the door, which was unlocked.

"Hello? Anybody here?" she called out.

Jo had started to explore the City about since her arrival, though she'd spent just as much time in the Roadhouse. Having it here was incredibly surreal, but it was a comfort. It gave her a home base, and something familiar. That was good, considering that she was as lost as ever in this City.

She still hadn't decided whether or not she was dead. No other theory made sense, but this wasn't like any kind of Heaven or Hell she'd ever heard of.

In the days leading up to New Year's Eve, she'd started to notice signs and flyers everywhere she went. It was lucky that she noticed these, because they were advertising drink specials and New Year's Eve entertainment at the Roadhouse. All Ages Accepted, bracelets for those over 21 to drink.

She knew she hadn't planned that. Hell, she hadn't even really been aware of what time of year it was when she got here. She didn't exactly know who to talk to or how to undo the advertising that had be done.

So New Year's Eve found her in the bar, which had been mysteriously decorated and was currently filled with the sounds of a live band. Which was really odd, because there had never been anything more than a jukebox in the Roadhouse, and Jo most certainly had not hired a live band.

All the same, she couldn't exactly complain about the flood of business (she was thankful for the employees that had apparently come with the place, who were fielding drink orders alongside her) or about the tips that she was raking in at the moment. And at least she wasn't spending New Year's Eve alone in some bizarre alternate dimension, so she supposed that was good. Assuming, of course, that she had time to think as she bustled around filling drink orders.


OOC: feel free to throw your character in for a little bit of New Year's Eve fun. Don't worry about taking turns, and feel free to branch off into random interactions threads or whathaveyou.

The last thing Jo remembered was resting her head on her mom's shoulder. She had been exhausted and she knew she had fought the good fight. She was just going to close her eyes for a few minutes, and open them again when the hounds came. She wasn't going to let her mom face the hounds alone.

When she did open her eyes, however, she wasn't in a hardware store. In fact, the first thing she noticed was that she could feel her legs again. Then there was the smell. Wood paneling mixed with stale cigarette smoke and whiskey. Home.

Her eyes darted around the room as her surroundings started to sink in. She was lying on a floor. A bar floor, to be exact. She turned her head ever so slightly, instantly recognizing the counter at the Roadhouse.

The Roadhouse? Jo frowned. The Roadhouse had been destroyed almost three years ago. It couldn't be.

She sat up slowly, her head spinning ever so slightly but otherwise feeling a whole lot better than she had just an hour ago. Her hands went to her neck, feeling not a gaping wound but the slightest outline of a scar. She lifted the bottom of her shirt and looked down at her side. More scars. Just barely ridged and faded as though she'd had years to heal. Or as though her injuries hadn't been that bad to begin with.

Her eyes closed again as she tried not to think about the memory of the hound's teeth tearing into her. Of the numbness that started to spread, dulling out the intense pain. The feeling of the life slowly draining out of her.

"The other side?" she wondered out loud, her throat dry and cracking on the words.

If it was, well, she wouldn't have expected to end up at the Roadhouse. As much as it had been her home, she'd also fought tooth and nail to get out of it. Then again, with everything she'd learned about angels over the last two years, she wouldn't put it past Heaven to not quite be all it was cracked up to be.

Jo blinked. For a sec, she could have sworn that it had snowed before everything had cleared to this. A lot must have happened that she had completely forgotten about. Maybe retroactive amensia wasn't that bad of a theory anymore.

Either way, she was still over by the Park, a place that she had a habit of visiting every now and again. It wasn't a bad place; Jo was rather fond of it whenever she had a free moment. Apparently that meant she was there a lot, as she wandered around aimlessly. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do, or even if she wanted to do anything at all. She felt worn down and worn out. That was a feeling that was new to her, but she wasn't sure why. A weariness that she had never known had settled down on her, and the feeling wasn't all that welcome. She felt like a stranger, which in some ways she was in the City.

Settling down on a bench, she considered her options. There weren't a lot of them. She could always go home and never leave her apartment. But what would be the point of that? Reaching into her back pocket, she pulled out an old newspaper. Or a new one. She didn't know. All she knew was, she needed to busy herself, to find something to do.

"All I need now is advice, you figure," she said to herself. "Too bad ain' no one to give it."

Claire was confused, she didn't know what was going on. It was entirely possible that she'd zoned out. She had a lot on her mind, what with Meredith being gone now and all. She had even more reason to want to hurt Sylar now. He'd killed her mother. Her biological mother. She'd never even gotten to know Meredith, and now she never would. Yes, she was grieving, but there had to be more.

She was not where she'd been before and everyone that had been with her was gone. Claire was alone right now. Alone, but she wasn't scared. She was more than confused, but she wasn't scared. She didn't need to be scared, right? She was invincible.

Still, she needed to know where she was and what was happening. How had she even gotten here? And where exactly was here?

Claire wasn't sure what to do next, maybe find someone with some answers. She knew one thing though, if Sylar ever showed up here, she would make him pay for what he did to Meredith.

Call it the December blues, the lack of holiday spirit, or the fact that Jo was never happy in the weeks after a zombie clean up operation. Besides coming closing her life and losing contact with one Dean Winchester, Jo had lost her cell phone to the force of gravity, concrete and some zombie's shoe. Great. Now with no communication, no change, and no pay phone, Jo had been forced to retreat with what remained of her supplies and regroup away from her apartment, wherever it was now. She hadn't been able to find her way back just yet, and part of her was almost afraid of what Dean would say to her when she found him again. Would he be made that she had not listened to him? In truth, she couldn't remember ever listening to him in the first place, except for when she was being saved. But she hadn't needed saving. Not this time.

Wandering the City at this hour of night, Jo just felt down in general. Her search for a new cell phone hadn't gone all that well, even with the holidays in full swing. She had just liked her old one too much. Maybe she didn't want one after all, although her search for quarters hadn't gone over that well either. She sighed, brushing her blonde hair away from her face before tucking her hands back into her jacket pockets. What was she so afraid of? It couldn't have been that hard to track down a cell phone distributor and to get a new phone with her old number back, except that it was.

Maybe she needed a drink after all.

Her cell phone lay in pieces a few feet away as Jo steadied herself. She had probably completely lied to Dean. Her, staying out of trouble? That was just not going to happen, and against her better judgment, she had gone out without telling him. And a few hours later, despite her promise that she would call him, it just wasn't possible, given that her cell phone was nothing more than a few pieces of metal and plastic on the sidewalk. The other pieces were currently sticking out of the hand of one zombie. And that zombie was walking right toward her, looking like the dumb thing that it was. Yep, that was Jo, and for the life of her, she was not about to die because she was a zombie. No ma'am, no way, no how.

Raising up her shotgun to eye level, Jo steadied her arm, as bruised and bleeding as it was. There was probably nothing more appetizing to a zombie right then than Jo's arm, and for the life of her, she hated it. Without a word, she aimed right for the spot between his eyes. Her arm, however, was not doing so good. In the end, she shot him in the nose, and he took it as all zombies did. But going until they stopped. Forcing her arm up again, she hit him again in between the eyes, watching as it fell on top of what was left of her phone. Jo grimaced, stepping over it and running on. Her attempts at finding help had so far failed. The outcome wasn't looking all that great.

"Dean's going to kill me for this one. Dammit!"

Checking her shotgun, she belatedly realized that she only had a few rounds left for her shotgun.

"Double dammit."

The bed was usually comfortable. Soft with good smelling pillows and warm blankets. Dean's eyes opened and he was greeted by the sight of a pretty blonde head, soft face and his arms around her as he held her while they slept. He laid there watching her, moving a hand to reached up and brush some hair back from her face.

He felt content and safe for the first time, even since hooking back up with his brother. He really should call Sam, let him know where he was. Not that Dean thought his brother was the least bit worried about him. He didn't even think his brother cared he was around any more which really wasn't like him at all.

Dean carefully slipped his arms from around Jo, deciding he needed to do two things. Restroom and then make coffee. He picked up his clothing as he went into the bathroom, using it and dressing partially. His jeans were on as well underwear and socks before he ventured out and padded into the kitchen.

He found the coffee maker and started preparing it, opening a cabinet door he pulled the coffee out and when he closed it, he jumped for Castiel was standing there. "Damnit, Castiel," he looked towards the room then back to him, his voice now low, "What are you doing here?"

"To warn you," The dark haired angel spoke with his soft voice.

"Warn me? About what? Sam, you already did that. Or is it Jo?" He looked towards the room.

"You are in for a battle, Dean, keep those you trust by you," He moved away from the counter. "You are gonna need them. This battle is gonna be hard, dangerous and ... eye opening." He turned to face Dean. "You are gonna need help, lots of it." He paused then stepped closer to Dean, "Choose wisely, Dean. Because the one you think, might not be the one you think."

"What?" Dean heard a noise and turned his head toward the bedroom but when he turned back to ask more, Castiel was gone. He muttered under his breath as he went back to making coffee. Maybe he should make them breakfast as well.

Since that day, things had just didn't seem right. The memories of what happened had flooded back to him. The hell hounds ripping him apart. Blood and the pain. And then blackness. Haunting images of blood, screams in his ear, and then he woke. Crawling his way out of a grave. Only to learn later he was risen by an Angel. Angel of God. Who told him he had work to do.

Dean found himself in a bar. A glass before him with some whiskey. How many glasses had it been? He had no idea or even cared. He tipped the glass up to his lips when he felt the light of a door opening hit his eyes. He turned his head to see who walked in.

Please let it be some hot chick.




ETA Update: This has gone to NC-17, don't read if you are not interested in that. But it has gotten hot.