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Jo Harvelle ([info]jo_hunts) wrote in [info]payline,
@ 2014-01-26 21:47:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, castiel (canon), dean winchester (au), jo harvelle (au)

Who: Jo Harvelle (AU), Dean Winchester (AU)
When: Sunday night
Where: Dean's room
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: language, and Jo would like to say that's all that's going on in the thread!
Summary: It's been a crazy couple of days. Two old friends take the time to catch up and compare notes on the madness.
Status: Complete



Jo had barely slept since her arrival here. She still didn't know what the hell was going on, and it was pissing her off. Worse than that, she still didn't have something to shoot or salt and burn for all of this. She also had a lot of feelings to deal with. Bobby was somehow alive here. She'd seen Sam for the first time in years and he was in bad shape. Krissy was here and she'd been too busy trying to help the Winchesters to even find her hunting partner. She was worried about the kid too, but Krissy could more than handle herself. There were also two Deans, two Sams, two Cas's, and something wearing her face. Truthfully, except for Bobby and the one Sam that she'd tested, she couldn't be sure that anything else here wasn't just a shifter or some other trick. Oh, and she had a roommate that she hadn't met yet but that she was pretty sure was the fallen angel she'd been talking to over the net. So there was that. And she wasn't even going to touch the fact that some of the people here seemed to think she was dead. Or she was, but she didn't particularly like the idea. Nor did she know what to say to the fact that this Dean seemed to have lost his Sam.

She hadn't seen or talked to Dean in years. She didn't take it personally because she'd been out of the country and he didn't strike her as a phone guy. Whatever crush she'd had on him had long since past. A few years of not calling and just about any girl could take that hint. Besides, from what she knew of his love 'em and leave 'em policies, she wasn't his type. Or he wasn't hers. She'd never really been the one-night stand sort of girl, which sometimes really sucked for her lovelife, considering that hunters very rarely got the chance to stay in one spot for long.

Regardless of the ancient history there, Dean and Sam were friends. They'd been there for her first real hunt, as well as for a few other things. They'd saved her life more than once and fought beside her and that was the sort of bond that didn't break easily. She'd known that she could have called them if she and her mom ever needed back-up and she assumed that the feeling was mutual. It was just how hunter friendships worked.

So with all that was going on, she was going to do her best to be there for the Winchesters. Which right now meant that she'd stopped off at one of the bars to order a bottle of whiskey and she was currently heading up to Dean's room. She supposed that the only perk of this place was that the booze and food was complimentary. Then again, that made her suspicious as all hell. You didn't live very long in the life without getting suspicious and paranoid.

She found Dean's room easily enough and took note of the fact that he seemed to be rooming with Cas and Sam. She wondered briefly how he'd managed to get that worked out, and wondered which Sam it was. She assumed not the Sam that she'd been trying to talk down the previous night. She knocked and waited for someone to answer, preparing herself as much to see Sam or Cas as for Dean. If it was Dean, she could already guess that he'd started drinking without her. Not that she blamed him, considering all that had been going on since his arrival.


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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-27 08:32 pm UTC (link)
Heaven, it wasn’t. But it wasn’t Hell either. There was too much that was good about the current situation for it to be torture, and way too much that sucked for it to be a reward. Then again, with the angels fallen and the king of all douchebags in charge, maybe Heaven was too messed up to give him anything the way it was supposed to be. The idea had traction, but not enough. Everything about this place seemed to have taken exactly what Dean had always wanted, no needed, and twisted it into exactly the worst version possible. He got his brother back, but he was seeing Lucifer again. Or, worse, he was possessed by the same Angel Dean had refused to listen to. He was the Sam that might have lived if Dean hadn’t screwed that all to Hell. He was a walking neon sign saying “You could have saved him,” and Dean didn’t know how to process that. For now, it was enough that his brother was alive. He would deal with the rest later.

But Sam was just the tip of the iceberg in this joint, never mind that there two of him. Jo and Bobby were enough to back up his Heaven theory, though Bobby had definitely not seemed to think that was the case. And Cas. What the Hell was going on with Cas? He looked at the man and he was the guy he’d expected to see. Human, confused, exactly the kind Cas he’d been looking for after the Fall. But he’d been here for awhile, several months if he could believe anyone in this bag of crazy. And Meg. He didn’t even want to think about the implications of that. His skin crawled every time he tried. Sure, she’d helped them out in the past. She’d gone to the mat for them more than once and, last time he’d seen her, she’d been on the wrong end of an Angel Sword. For them. That didn’t mean he was ready to play nice and invite her to Sunday dinner.

At light knock on the door broke him out of his thoughts and he glanced, instinctively, towards the doors on either side of him. Both were closed, both men getting some rest after what had apparently been a long night. Dean, however, hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d barely slept last night, sitting up one of the hotel room’s awkwardly shaped arm chairs and just watching his brother sleep, only dozing off a few hours before dawn. Now it looked like it would be more of the same. He grabbed the half full tumblr of whiskey he’d been steadily nursing over the last half hour and swirled it idly with one hand, listening to the ice clink, as he stood and walked towards the door. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to greet someone who, until yesterday, had been dead. Dead because of him, just like everyone else. Pausing at the bar, he picked up a silver knife that Sam had left for him and a small bottle of holy water. He almost didn’t want to test her. He almost didn’t care.

Pulling open the door, he opened his mouth to speak, but, for a long moment, nothing came out. She looked so real, and he knew that didn’t mean anything. Never did. But, for a minute, he was willing to just be glad she was standing there, seemingly alive. But his own feelings, his own hope that maybe one person he’d screwed over might be okay, well, he’d never let them get in the way of the job before. His mouth clicked shut, and a businesslike mask descended on his features. With a pointed look, he raised the small bottle of holy water in a mock salute, and took a quick swig, handing it off to her, he took the silver knife and drew a line across his forearm, a thin line of red following its path. He watched her expectantly, saying nothing. No reason to talk to her if she wasn’t the real deal, so he waited, a scowl on his face.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-01-27 08:52 pm UTC (link)
Jo probably looked a little older than when Dean had seen her last. Years if hunting had added a few wrinkles to her face and one visible scar on her forearm that she hadn't lived to earn in his reality. She noticed right away that Dean was older than when she'd last seen him, but she'd expected that. It had been years. When she'd first met him, she'd thought that he seemed like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. That was... nothing compared to how defeated and tired he looked now. She almost didn't need the tests because she couldn't picture any demon faking this level of emotion. It was the reason why she didn't complain about using his knife and his holy water for his tests. She accepted both and took a swig from the flask before slicing her arm for the second time in as many days.

When that was done, she held up the bottle of whiskey for him to see.

"Long time no see."

She'd already asked how he was doing over the net, and it had been exactly as she'd expected. The question didn't really need repeating.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-27 10:36 pm UTC (link)
A weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying lifted slightly. It wasn’t so much that this really changed anything. He’d watched her die, and he knew it had been his fault. But just seeing her standing there alive went right through him. She looked different. Older maybe, but then he supposed he was no spring chicken himself these days. Years of hunting and alcohol weren’t exactly kind, after all. Having an angel on tap to take care of the worst injuries had been more than a little convenient, and definitely cut down on the scarring, but even that could stop the effects of time and hard living. At this point, he was fairly sure if a monster or demon didn’t take him out, it’d be a heart attack or something like it. Damn embarrassing way for a hunter to go out if anyone asked him.

“You can say that again,” he said with half a smile as he stepped aside to let her into the room. He’d kept it dim out of preference, but reached to switch on a few more lights to ease some of the gloom. He didn’t particularly want to think about the last time he’d seen her if he could help it. Already he was having trouble merging that event with this one. They looked the same, but different, and he was trying to wrap his brain around it. Hell, he’d seen stranger in his time. He eyed the bottle of whiskey she carried and his brow rose in appreciation.

“Always were a girl after my own heart,” he said appreciatively as he moved into the small living area. After a lifetime of crap motels, this place was beyond luxury in his opinion. He missed the feeling of home that had come with settling in at the bunker, that feeling had gone right out the window the day Sam died. Now, in this place, he had two sets of his family, apparently, a bed without lumps or bugs, and enough free booze to drown in. His internal gauge on the situation shifted a little bit more towards “messed up Heaven.”

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-01-27 10:49 pm UTC (link)
With each person that passed the standard tests, Jo felt both a little more relieved and a hell of a lot more confused. It was good to have so many hunters here to help out with whatever was going on, but she assumed that this meant that Dean could vouch for Sam and at least one Cas. Which meant that there were two Sams running around the city who checked out. That didn't even begin to touch the fact that this Dean was from a time when both she and Sam were dead. Possibly... well, Bobby seemed to think she was dead too, which didn't make sense because she'd outlived him where she was from.

"Yeah, well you don't grow up around a bar without acquiring good taste in alcohol."

She set the knife and flask down on a table and pulled two disposable cups out of her pocket. She smiled a bit as she followed Dean deeper into the room.

"Nice digs. Apparently you won the room lottery. I've just got a standard room and a fallen angel for a roommate. Which... the room itself is nicer than any of the motels I've stayed in over the last five years or so, but... it's not like this."

She didn't hang around on the edges of the living area like she might have once. Instead, she plopped down on one of the couches and poured them both some of the whiskey.

"You have ice?" she asked, though at this point she wouldn't complain about drinking it without ice either. Right now, she would be happy just to be a little fuzzy-headed for a bit.

"So how're Sam and Cas doing?" she gestured to the bedroom doors, figured he'd know which ones she meant, though the fact that she even needed to think about specifying that kind of blew her mind.

She thought of Charlie, the redhead who'd claimed to know them all. Those rings of hers would be damn useful so they didn't have to keep track of which versions of each other they'd tested or not.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-28 02:51 pm UTC (link)
“You can say that again,” Dean said with momentary admiration, glancing around the large living area. He wasn’t entirely sure how the room had come about, in all actuality. When he’d arrived, it certainly hadn’t belonged to him if the key in his pocket was any indication. No, when he’d arrived, Sam had his own room and Cas was staying with Charlie, Kevin, and some woman Dean had never even met before. Then, out of nowhere, the three of them had been relocated without warning. He didn’t like it. The whole thing felt like Angel interference and that always made his skin crawl.

Grabbing the ice bucket from and setting it down on the low glass coffee table, Dean settled down in the small arm chair closest to Jo’s seat on the sofa, noting her easy familiarity a bit wistfully. If she’d lived, if she and Ellen hadn’t been in Carthage, they might have come to the bunker with him and Sam. This might have been a common thing, sitting down with her for a drink. Might have been awkward once or twice, he conceded, but looking at her now he thought it just might be safe to assume whatever feelings she’d had for him had long since faded. So much the better. He’d come to think of her as extended family and, even if he hadn’t, even if he’d ever briefly considered the option, she was already too deep in the life. He never could have looked at her without seeing the eventual expiration date on anything they had. And he had been right, in a way. Her blood was on his hands and nothing would ever wash it off, even if it did look like somewhere, somehow, she was still alive and well. It didn’t erase his mistakes.

“Sam is…” he started and stopped himself. He’d been about to say fine. Great even. Alive. But he couldn’t bring himself to finish the thought. Sam was possessed by an Angel, exactly the thing Dean had been unwilling to allow. Whatever reality he came from, it was one where Dean had made that choice for him. He didn’t know which was worse, knowing he’d let his brother die, or knowing that he hadn’t. “Cas is fine,” he said instead, not even trying to cover his hesitation. “We missed out on the party. Sam says he was possessed for a solid month before anyone even noticed.” Dean shook his head in mild disbelief. How his friend could have gone that long without anyone seeing that he was off said a lot about how distant Cas must have become and Dean wondered if the blame for that would fall on his shoulders as well. If this place was to be believed, apparently he’d been here the whole time, or at least some incarnation of him. So how could he have been here and not noticed a demon riding shotgun in the only friend he had left?

He hesitated, just for a second, looking away from her as he asked, as nonchalantly as possible, “How’s your mom?” He hadn’t asked about Ellen before. He hadn’t wanted to. But if Jo was alive...if Bobby and Sam were alive...it gave a guy reason to hope.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-01-29 03:36 am UTC (link)
Jo had always felt a pull towards Dean. He'd been there for her first hunt and she'd met him and gotten a rare moment of honesty compared to the usual hunters who came through her bar. That kind of thing made an impression on a girl. But eventually, she'd realized that if there was enough to build on, they both would have fought a little harder to find that 'right time, right place.' Plus, these days she wasn't sure she could see herself dating anyone. Maybe if the rare guy came along who could keep up with herself, Krissy, and her mom and who didn't mind hunting along with the three of them... maybe then. But she'd yet to find that guy and she'd been busy enough that she wasn't exactly brooding over her perpetually single status. Dean hadn't kept in touch because he wasn't exactly a phone guy, but she'd heard updates enough from Sam and Bobby and hunter friendships really didn't rely on constant contact. So it was easy enough to sit down with this version of Dean and pick right up like no time had passed.

She didn't miss the hesitation and lack of an answer about Sam. She was also currently tiptoeing around the elephant in the room when it came to the fact that this Dean seemed to think that Sam was dead, along with herself. That was coming, but they needed more booze first.

When he mentioned the fact that Cas had been possessed for a month without anyone noticing, she bit her tongue to keep herself from asking where the other Dean must have been. It was clear that he was wondering the same thing. And worse, blaming himself for it.

"My mom's... not here. She's going to be worried about me," Jo said, trying not to think about that too much.

Instead, she did her best to look Dean square in the face, if he'd let her.

"Anyone ever tell you that spend an awful lot of time blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault? I can't say that I'm thrilled at the idea of Cas walking around possessed for the last month without anyone noticing, but you can't blame yourself for something some other Dean failed to do. Especially when we don't even know if the other guy is still here. I certainly haven't seen him."

After all, if there was another Dean out there somewhere, wouldn't he have been there for at least one of the Sams? And for Cas? And Bobby?

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-29 04:44 am UTC (link)
A bit of tension fell away from him and he sighed, bringing his drink to his lips and draining it in a single swallow. Somewhere, Ellen was alive. Somewhere she and Jo were hunting together, living their lives. Somewhere the world wasn’t one endless tragedy after another. It was more than Dean felt he deserved from life. Certainly more than he’d ever expected to get. He stalled for time as he processed the information, dropping a few more ice cubes into his glass and reaching for the bottle of whiskey Jo had brought. In the past year, he’d been drinking less. Moving away from the harder liquors and getting back to the simple pleasures of a beer with his brother. Now though? Now he was ready for the fuzziness that came with a really good, strong drink.

He caught her scrutiny and, absurdly, considered avoiding it. Just for a second. Then he turned and met her gaze, his expression blank, a mask of everything he’d put up with over the past 8 years. He let her look, bizarrely conscious of just how easy it felt to be so calm, even in the midst of all of...whatever this was. Sam had asked him once, in a prison, way too long ago to pin a date on, if he ever worried about how easy this was for him. And no, he never did. Dean adapted. He dealt. He moved on.

“Some other Dean?” he said with a bit of a smile, his tone incredulous. “Still me though.” He took another, smaller drink and set his glass on the table, rubbing his hands together to rid them of condensation as his eyes fell away from her. “Gotta think if that’s some version of me, somewhere out there, different life, different experiences...he’s still me. Which means I’m still capable of…” he trailed off, not sure where to take that thought. Capable of getting his brother possessed by an angel? Capable of abandoning his best friend? Capable of watching Sammy die and doing nothing to stop it? Which one was really the worst version of himself?

“I honestly can’t make heads or tails of this place,” he said in a thinly veiled attempt to change the subject. “It’s like a fun house without the fun.” His brow furrowed as he thought. He hadn’t really had a chance to see too much in this place yet, but what he had seen had been enough to turn his stomach more than once. One thing in particular. “Did you know Cas was banging a demon?” he asked, his annoyance and mild disgust more than apparent in his tone. He realized his mistake a moment too late. Not just a demon. One particular demon. But then, this version of Jo had never died. She was alive and well and not ripped apart by hellhounds. Hell, maybe she’d never even met Meg. His eyes widened slightly, well aware that he’d probably just lodged his foot right in his mouth, good and tight.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-01-30 03:05 am UTC (link)
Once Dean finished filling up his glass, Jo filled up one of her own. She had a feeling that they were both going to need it. She felt a little rush of frustration at how quick Dean was to pin everything on himself, even the things that had happened before this specific Dean had even arrived. She resisted pointing out that it seemed like various realities might have differences in people. After all, the Sam who was currently rooming with Dean had pretty much given her the cold shoulder on the network, as opposed to the Sam who she was pretty sure was from her reality, just a few years behind her had been happy to see her.

She wasn't exactly going to roll with the subject change, though she couldn't help but rise to the bait a bit. She quirked an eyebrow at the information Dean had just shared.

"Well, he's been possessed for the last month, right? I'm guessing that sleeping with other demons kind of goes with the territory."

She was jumping to a conclusion, perhaps, but it was a reasonable conclusion based on what she knew so far.

She exhaled slowly, her mind turning back to how much Dean seemed to be blaming himself for.

"Anyone ever tell you that you carry around a whole lot more guilt than you ought to?" she asked him. "I know this is hard to believe, but not everything bad that happens around you is your fault."

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-30 04:49 am UTC (link)
“Yeah, I guess,” he said without much conviction. He wasn’t at all sure when the Meg thing had started, but he’d gotten the impression from Sam that it might have been awhile. Apparently she was the one who had noticed Cas was possessed in the first place and had even helped with the exorcism. He didn’t know what to make of that. It was bad enough that whatever version of him had been lounging about this place hadn’t noticed the difference, but Sam too? They had to find out from another demon? He’d definitely stepped into bizarro world and if it wasn’t for the very obvious upsides, he’d have been turning the place inside out trying to find the exit.

“You sound like your mom when you say that,” he said with a soft smile. It wasn’t a new thought, that he might be taking on more guilt than other people thought he deserved. Maybe they were right. Didn’t really change much. In the back of his head, there’d always be this voice, the voice of his father reminding him how much responsibility was on his shoulders. And every time he faltered. Every time he failed, or took a wrong step, he knew that weight got a little heavier.

Picking up his glance once more, he swirled the amber liquid once or twice and took a long drink. He face pulled together in a decisive expression. It was time to bite this bullet.

“Sam’s dead,” he said, baldly, without looking at her. “Sam died, and I let it happen. Coulda fixed him. But I didn’t like the catch, and I said no.” He looked at her then, his expression a carefully constructed mask of indifference, daring to be judged. “And I get here and I find out that catch? Well it happened anyway. So he’s alive, but he shouldn’t be. If he knew…” he trailed off looking away again and taking another long drink, nearly draining the glass. “I don’t know what I’m doin’ here, Jo. I don’t know what any of us are doing here.”

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-01-30 10:34 pm UTC (link)
Sam was dead. She'd already gathered as much from Dean's net posts, but it was still something else to hear those words from his lips. Her heart stopped a little at the thought of the youngest Winchester dead back in this Dean's world. He seemed like he'd lost Bobby too. She wondered who he had left. If anyone.

She set her drink down and took a moment to answer. She knew that she had to choose her words very carefully because she could already see the spiral of self-loathing that Dean was getting sucked into. Hell, that had probably started before he landed here.

She didn't know what this place was, and she couldn't decide how she felt about it. If her mom was here, she might have thought that it was even okay. As it was, she knew that everyone seemed to be getting back people that they'd lost. It didn't sit right with her because it wasn't the natural order of things, but on the other hand... she sighed and stood.

"I don't know any more than you. I don't even know if we should be trying to get you back to your reality." she winced a little. "But while we're here, maybe we just need to look at it as borrowed time. Maybe the chance to do things differently. Whatever's going on with this Sam, then we do what we do best and figure out a way to fix it."

She moved a little closer to where Dean was sitting and held out her arms.

"And I think this is where we have to go for a chick flick moment."

She smiled faintly. She wasn't typically that much of a hugger and hugging wasn't really something that she did with the Dean back in her timeline, but she was also pretty sure that he needed one right now. He needed a reminder that there were people here to back him up in everything that was going on with both Sams.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-31 02:08 am UTC (link)
Dean smiled faintly and a slight chuckle of amusement escaped him as she held open her arms. He glanced down at the drink he held in his hands, shaking his head in a bemused sort of way before setting it on the glass table. He stood, wiping the dampness on his fingers on his jeans and without really pausing to let the moment be awkward he put his arms tight around her shoulders and drew her against his chest. She was so much smaller than him. God he’d forgotten how small she seemed. But never fragile. Even in the beginning he’d never been stupid enough to think that. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and squeezed maybe just a little tighter than necessary. It was week of hugs for him, apparently. He kept this up he’d wind up as one of those crazy, bearded guys giving out free hugs on the street corner.

“Gettin’ soft in my old age,” he said a bit self deprecatingly before letting her go. “And you’re right,” he added, sinking back onto the arm of the chair he’d just vacated and sighing, running a hand across the back of his neck. “As messed up as this place is, not exactly looking for a how or a why right now.” His eyes strayed, almost against his will, to the door of the room he shared with Sam. “What are we gonna do about Sam?” he asked vaguely, but he knew she’d understand. After all, there wasn’t anything they could do for one of them. As far as he knew, Jo didn’t even know about the Angel riding his brother like a freaking pony. The other version, though? There had to be something they could do there. Last time, it had taken Cas stepping in, and it had broken him. He didn’t know what they could do this time, but he couldn’t just sit back and not try. It was his brother, damn it. He had to fix it. Fixing Sam was what he did. What he was supposed to do. What he kept failing to do.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-01-31 03:29 am UTC (link)
Jo gave as good as she got with that hug. She thought he needed it and she could use a little something to hold onto in this topsy turvy place too. She wasn't glad that the Winchesters, Bobby, and Krissy were stuck here, but she was damn glad that they were here all the same. Once the hug was done, she took her seat back on the couch and tipped back a little more of the whiskey.

She frowned as she noticed where Dean's eyes were straying.

"Which Sam?" she asked. "Because you didn't exactly tell me what's going on with this Sam."

She gestured toward the door as well. He'd been deliberately vague about that. As for the Sam that she and Bobby had collected from the sign, well... she knew what they'd done about that in her timeline and it wasn't an option here. And for the sake of everyone involved, she hoped that it never became an option. Because being stuck here was one thing, but she sure didn't think that any of them would survive being stuck with the king of Hell.

She sighed and rested back into the couch.

"Whatever's going on with both Sams, you're not dealing with it on your own. There are a lot of people here who care about you both and we're going to figure it out."

Her voice was firm with that statement. She had long since outgrown being put off by 'it's a family matter. it doesn't involve you.' She was here and she'd help in whatever way she could, whether Dean liked it or not.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-01-31 03:34 pm UTC (link)
Dean smiled a little, inspite of himself. Trust her to call him on his vague bullshit.

“Either. Both,” he said with a slight shrug. “It was hard enough trying to keep him out of trouble when there was just one of him.” He glanced down at his hands, wondering where to even start, or if he should ask her to, since they both had an inside track on a different version of his little brother. She seemed to know the other Sam fairly well, and that would help. But the Sam in the bedroom? He was, as far as Dean could tell, closer to the Sam he’d last seen. It was both a relief and a burden just looking at him and it had, in fact, been rather hard to look away since the moment he’d arrived. He kept expected the rug to get pulled out from under him at any moment, and for his brother to disappear, or drop dead right in front of him. The tension was wearing him down.

“He’s possessed,” he said, as lightly as a man could say something like that. He couldn’t look directly at her as he said it. This was his fault. She could go on about him not accepting the guilt for things until she was blue in the face but this? This was something he’d done. Didn’t matter that it was some alternate reality version of events. Somewhere in the universe, he’d let his brother get possessed. On purpose. And he couldn’t forgive himself for that any more than he could for letting him die. “An Angel named Ezekiel. Sam was…” he paused, not sure how to quantify the amount of damage Sam had taken during the trials. “He was in a bad way. Ezekiel said he could heal him, but only from the inside out.” He met her gaze then, wanting to be clear. Wanting her to know that he’d made the right call. At least, it was the call that he knew Sam would have wanted him to make. And he’d be the one that had to live with it. “I said no.” He paused, giving her a moment to understand what that had meant. What choice he’d made. “And now I get here, and he’s alive and it’s because somewhere, somehow, I said yes.” The disgust in his voice was thick and he reached for his glass once more, draining the last of it’s contents.

“And the other one? Still seeing Lucifer and God only knows what else?” He shook his head. There was too much that needed fixing, and he didn’t have the faintest idea on how to start.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-02-01 12:33 am UTC (link)
"Shit," Jo muttered, taking a long draft from her glass as all that was going on with Dean's Sam and both Sams that were here here sink in.

She was silent as she considered her words carefully. There wasn't a whole lot of comfort she could offer in this situation and all of this went pretty far above and beyond standard territory. Then again, the Winchesters did have a habit of ending up in situations that didn't have much precedent.

"I think that you made the right decision. The Sam I know would never have wanted to pay that price. As for the Sam that's here... has the angel had the chance to heal him enough? If so, then we find a way to get the angel out."

And hope that the angel didn't just grab another vessel, but they could worry about the bridge after they'd burned it down.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-02-01 03:43 pm UTC (link)
Shaking his head, he gave a soft chuckle of dark amusement. “You’re about the only one who does,” he said, meeting her gaze with a sad smile. He didn’t want to admit it, but Bobby’s words still stung. It was hard enough wrapping his head around everyone he loved being right here, where he could see them, talk to them, bask in a life that might have been his if not for all the crap. But all it had taken was one conversation to drive a wedge between him and the only real father he’d ever had. The worst part was, he couldn’t argue with him. He couldn’t disagree. There had been no good answer to the situation he’d been in and even if he’d made the choice he knew Sam would have wanted, he was the one who had to live with it, and no scenario that ended with his brother dead was the right one.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, shrugging and looking away. “Haven’t really talked to the guy. Guess it’s time to have a chat but damn it. I don’t even know where to start.” He sighed and stood, reaching down for the whiskey bottle. He didn’t fill his glass this time. He was drinking too much and he knew it, but hell if it didn’t take the edge of. Pouring just a splash into his glass, he swirled it with the steadily melting ice and set the bottle back on the table. He moved away from Jo, towards the large windows that covered most of one wall, and peered out. They had a decent view at least, but he wasn’t really seeing it. He was seeing his own reflection in the glass. Haggard. Getting older. Only a matter of time before the hair went gray on him. He took a small drink, trying to cobble together some kind of plan of action.

“I could ask Cas to check him out,” he said before gesturing in a dismissive way towards the door that led to Castiel’s room. “The other one. Still has his grace, I’m told. But he’s kind of, “ he turned towards Jo, raising a finger to his temple and swirling it in a universal sign for completely bat shit crazy. “Maybe Anna…” he added, not really talking to Jo, more thinking out loud. He made a face, instinctively shying away from the idea. He and Anna had plenty of history, and it wasn’t all good. He wanted to think he might be able to go to her for help, but he wasn’t entirely sure her could. Or should.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-02-01 10:35 pm UTC (link)
Jo's eyes followed Dean to the window but she remained sitting. If he needed the physical space, she wasn't going to stop him. Especially given the touchy subject matter.

"What's that supposed to mean that I'm the only one who thinks you made the right decision? Did Sam say something to you?"

She was getting the feeling that Dean hadn't done much talking to either Sam about what had happened in his last reality, but there weren't many people who could get him quite this worked up. Then again, if he was already most of the way there, it might just take a push.

"Anna Milton?" she asked, as he mentioned that name. "The fallen angel? I... uh, I think that she's supposed to be my roommate. Her name was on the door, but I haven't seen her yet since I've gotten here."

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-02-01 11:45 pm UTC (link)
“No, not Sam,” Dean said dismissively. He hadn’t even told Sam about this. How could he? It was one thing to have to explain to him why he’d thought he was dead. It was another to tell him he was possessed, and that it was Dean’s fault. Because he couldn’t let go. Just like every other time something had happened to him. Dean could never let go. He thought he’d done it right this time. He thought he’d done what Sam wanted and finally let him go. But Bobby…

He shied away mentally from thinking about the conversation he’d had with Bobby. Bobby, who’d cried over him when he sold his soul. Who’d forgiven them for their part in the apocalypse. Who’d always been the closest thing he had to a real father. Bobby had written him off because he let Sam die and he never should have done that. No matter what rationalization he might have built up for himself, it had crumbled under a single conversation. Now, he didn’t know how to bridge that gap, or even if he should. Bobby was right. He’d messed up. And that was just something he had to live with. Like everything else.

“Yeah, Anna Milton,” Dean said with a visible lightening of tension as he gratefully seized the subject change and turned back towards Jo. “Last I saw of her, she died, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem for anyone else around here, so I can’t see how it should apply to her. She wasn’t exactly one of the good guys last time we met, but she’s…” he paused, not sure how to explain the marked difference between Anna before she’d been taken back to Heaven and after. “I dunno, she seems better,” he finished a bit lamely. “Hard to know who to trust in this place, honestly.” He leaned back against the window sill, crossing his arms over his chest and sipping lightly at the increasingly watery whiskey in his glass.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-02-02 03:00 am UTC (link)
"Isn't that the case even back home?" Jo asked.

There weren't many people that she could trust 100% of the time. The Winchesters made that short list. But everyone else? It seemed like a lot of people's priorities and alliances could change. And when dealing with angels? Things got even murkier.

She wasn't too keen on the idea of sleeping in a room with an angel who might potentially be dangerous to her but she didn't see how she had much of a choice. She certainly couldn't find anywhere to request a room change and as much as she wanted to protect herself, it was probably bad form to put up angel wards in a room that was supposed to belong to an angel.

"If not Sam, then who said something to you?"

She wasn't going to let that subject drop. Someone had said something and Jo felt that it needed to be addressed. They had enough shit going on here without turning on each other.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-02-02 06:12 pm UTC (link)
“It doesn’t matter,” Dean said in a defeated tone of voice with a wave of his hand. And it didn’t. He’d already spewed enough of his problems at her that he was more than ready to drop it and move on. That was the Dean Winchester patented coping method, right there. Have a problem? Drink until it goes away. Someone asks you about it? Claim it doesn’t matter and push it down where they can’t see it anymore. He downed the last of his drink and set the glass on the window sill, wiping his damn hands together and sighing. He’d take a break before the next one. He was a man that could handle a drink or four, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be falling down drunk. Not in this place. Not with so much going on that he could hardly tell which way to turn at any given time. The slight warm detachment a few good drinks provided was enough for the moment.

“So you’re here,” he said, starting to count off people on his fingers, “Me, Sam, Sam again, two versions of Cas, Anna, Charlie, Kevin, Bobby, Mom and Dad….and Meg. Am I missing anyone?” He was doing his best to keep up, and he was fairly certain he was going to fail at that. Miserably. His original assumption that this was some messed up version of Heaven had fairly well died the second he’d seen a known demon walking around. It was an odd thing, really. She’d been enough to convince him that he wasn’t standing in a room full of shifters, despite appearances, simply because what shifter in its right mind would try to get to him by picking her face. And it had also solidified this was definitely not Heaven, because if she wasn’t a shifter, what was she doing there? A demon couldn’t go there and no version of his Heaven, no matter how screwed up things were under Metatron, would include her. Weird to think seeing her had been the moment of clarity in this madhouse.

Off to his right, Dean heard a door knob turn and he glanced towards Cas’s door. The poor guy had been resting most of the day and, from what he heard, no one was more entitled to it. A wave of guilt washed over him again at the thought of Cas possessed, and him doing nothing to help him. For a month. His eyes tightened and his mouth formed a thin line as the door opened.

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[info]wastedgrace
2014-02-02 11:25 pm UTC (link)
Castiel had no intention to sleep in the new room tonight. He had simply wanted to see with his own eyes his name next to the Winchester brothers. He had been moved before, to Charlie’s room, but that was after they had talked over the change. This was different. The room reassignment had happened before he even had a chance to really talk to Dean or Sam. They had seemed agreeable enough about the assignment minus the general paranoia over the hotel itself, but Castiel didn’t feel comfortable shoved in suddenly with people he hadn’t spoken to for three months.

The walk up to the new room, a meager two flights of stairs, had obliterated what strength he had built up over the course of the day though. Castiel hadn’t decided to take a nap so much as passed out on the new bed. That had been when there was still a good deal of bright light coming in through the windows and Castiel told himself that he would just sleep for a while as he relinquished control. Now though the room was too dark but his mind was filled with enough grog that Castiel nearly wished he had let Ezekiel heal all the damage he had taken instead of simply the broken nose. But Sam already had enough questions and Castiel had no desire to be anymore beholden to that angel than he already was.

Meg was his first thought, as he stretched and remembered the new room he was going to have to get use to. He had put off going up to her room too long, time had gotten away from him and now it was much later than he intended. As he listened though Castiel thought he heard faint voices from the living room. So rather than rush out the door and go directly to Meg’s he made some effort to put himself together. Another change of clothes and a shave, so he didn’t look quite like the exhausted man he felt. Finally though there was nothing else to do but just go. He turned the knob quietly slipping through the door and closing the door carefully.

Awkwardly he stood nearly against the door for a moment taking in the living room. Dean and Jo, not exactly the evening welcome he had expected, but the sight of the blonde hunter made Castiel move straight for the exit. He was too exhausted to explain.

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[info]jo_hunts
2014-02-03 02:04 am UTC (link)
Jo had her mouth open to tell Dean that yes, it did matter. To pry some more, even though she was pretty sure that the conversation was over. She also was about to point out that there was potentially a double for herself and for Dean here as well. None of that came out as the door to one of the rooms opened and Cas stepped out and made a beeline for the exit. She'd only met the angel once or twice so she wasn't expecting a warm welcome. Though she also wasn't expecting the cold shoulder either.

She shot Dean a questioning look but turned her attention to her cup and grabbed the bottle to refill it. At the very least, the whiskey was having the intended effect. It had taken the edge off and at the very least she was a little less tense. Not that she expected the same of Dean, since they'd delved into some pretty heavy topics so far.

She was silent as she let the other hunter and the (former?) angel figure out how to handle Cas's sudden appearance.

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[info]dean_wchester
2014-02-04 10:02 pm UTC (link)
“Where you going, buddy?” Dean asked as good naturedly as he could. He was a bit surprised to see Cas taking off like that without even a word of greeting. He’d barely seen the guy since he’d gotten here and had been more than a little worried as he waited out the night. Then had come the most awkward morning ever. Cas hadn’t gotten out of bed for hours and, when the door to his room finally opened and he came out, having obviously been through a very recent shower, he hadn’t been alone. There were probably better ways Dean could have found out about Cas’s little side project, but he’d kept the walk of shame jokes to himself. The last thing he needed was to pick a fight with a demon on his first day in town. He and Cas had had lunch, but it had been quiet. Then they’d moved up here and he’d disappeared again. Dean didn’t know what to make of the situation and was at something of a loss.

“Stay and have a drink with us,” he offered, glancing at Jo a bit questioningly. He didn’t suppose he needed permission in what was apparently his own room to invite a friend to join them, but they hadn’t exactly been just shooting the breeze either. Still, he didn’t like the image of Cas slipping out the door like he had something to hide. Or worse, like he didn’t want to talk to Dean at all. Their relationship had been a lot of things over the years, but he’d never seen him act like this before.

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[info]wastedgrace
2014-02-05 08:30 pm UTC (link)
As he stopped it wasn’t Dean Castiel looked to but Jo. The hunter had really been understanding about Meg the first time around given the situation. A long explanation had been necessary to make her understand though. The look Dean had given him as Meg, her hair still just as wet as his own, had joined the crowd waiting in the living area this morning, had not gone unnoticed. An explanation for Jo would only be slightly exhaustive but for both of them? Castiel stiffened, guilt clearly written on his face, because his friends did deserve an answer. This was all too much at one time though.

But Dean’s next statement made him relax slightly and Castiel wavered tempted to move forward. His blue eyes finally looking to his friend. The idea tempted him. He had wanted to save his first drink for a moment with Dean and instead it had been Jo that forced the issue. Which was good since, he had ended up going on a bender later anyway. Now he could sit down and have a drink with both of them. Only he really couldn’t. One drink now and he would hardly make it back to his own room much less Meg’s. “I can’t drink now.” He offered apologetically, “I am still very tired. It will have to be another time.” There was something slightly plaintive in his tone.

He hesitated there a moment longer and then Castiel headed for the main door again. “I need to check in with... my caretaker.” And as he reached for the door handle he offered, “Goodnight Jo... Dean.”

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