Title: Blood and Anesthetic

Chapter: 2

~~~~~~~~~

Normally, Dean hated being awake at dawn, yet knowing Castiel’s early-bird tendencies, he made sure he was in the dining hall waiting, despite his raging headache. He had to know how Jo was before going about his daily duties. People came and went. One of Cas’s groupies came in, the youngest one, Melanie, stopping when she saw Dean. Her eyes widened, a flicker of uncertainty and fear in them. She licked her lips, squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and hurried past him.

Feeling just out of sorts enough to needle her, he trailed behind her, admiring the sway of her trim, denim-encased hips. Cas did have great taste in women, Dean reflected. He took a tray, piled a plate with food, then sat across from her at one table. She didn’t say anything, avoiding looking at him to the point of being ridiculous, though he had to admit she was making progress. She didn’t hurry through her breakfast, appearing to actually chew her food this time instead of inhaling it to be away from him.

Just another interaction with her, except this time she didn’t burst into tears. Would wonders never cease? She had a habit of crying whenever he so much as looked at her. With a last nervous glance at him, she took care of her dishes and left.

He ate a hearty breakfast and was well on his way through a single urn of coffee all by himself when Cas came through the doors. “Finally,” he muttered, shoving his chair back and abandoning his fresh cup of cooling coffee to follow Cas towards the food. “She awake?”

“Good morning to you, too.” Taking a tray, Cas picked up a bowl with fruit, poked the serving spoon in the oatmeal a few times before shrugging and dishing some up, then took his tray to the drink urns. “Jo is sleeping. The drugs helped.”

“Wait a minute.” He dropped his voice to a near whisper, stretching out a hand and touching Castiel’s arm. “You drugged her?”

“Yes.” Castiel poured hot water into a cup. “You said she needed sleep so I shared my evening drink mix with her.”

“Evening drink mix?” He waited for an explanation with brows raised. While his personal drink mix was a healthy slug of Jack Daniels or other hard liquor in whatever liquid was in the cup by his bed, he suspected Castiel’s was different.

“Dark chocolate cocoa mix with orange flavoring and a…sleep aid.” He opened the tins on the shelves, perusing the full choice of teabags before selecting one.

“You drink that every night?”

“Usually.”

“How is that good for you?” Cas’s stare was decidedly unfriendly at that question. He could almost hear Cas asking how Dean had room to talk. Pick your battles, Dean told himself and held up a hand. “Okay. Let’s get back to how you drugged her.”

Ripping open the packet, Cas took out the teabag and dunked it in the water. He sighed. “How else did you expect me to make her sleep? It’s not as though I can simply stretch out my hand and do it that way anymore, is it?” Bitterness wrapped about the words like a loving caress.

Dean looked away, his curiosity high as to Jo’s welfare, but not enough to wake her up himself and find out. “Is she okay?”

“She woke once earlier for a few minutes. I’ll see how she is in a bit, take her some breakfast.”

“She won’t want much. Never does in the morning.” He recalled mornings after making up with her, sharing cinnamon rolls or donuts with coffee while lounging on the bed. Or eating at a restaurant where Dean ended up finishing whatever she’d ordered. Unless it had chocolate in some form. Then Jo ate every bite, exclaiming afterwards that she’d eaten too much and felt sick.

Of course, in that case, he’d been right there with her, having ordered the same thing.

Castiel wouldn’t know about Jo and breakfast though. He and Ellen had always disappeared together, not showing up again until either Dean or Jo called one of them. It was during those months the change in Cas had truly begun. After one two-day stint away with Ellen, Cas had started sleeping. He’d eased into a full night’s sleep over a span of two months. Another few days away had seen him eating. Light meals at first. A piece of fruit. Some French fries or yogurt. Smoked oysters and black olives. His food likes were strange in Dean’s opinion, though he suspected they were merely a mish-mash of what Cas had seen he and Ellen eating. Maybe there was a bit of Jimmy in there still, too. Who knew? Jimmy could still be tap-dancing around in Castiel’s mind. That wasn’t one of the things Cas had shared with Dean.

While he knew some of what had happened to Cas during those nights away, it wasn’t something they’d ever talked about. No chick-flick moments for them about it. Castiel had avoided telling Dean much about his days and nights with Ellen, yet it wasn’t hard at all to figure out that Ellen had shown him a thing or two on more than one subject.

“Good to know.” Cas reached for one of the sugar containers, sprinkling some on the oatmeal.

“She’ll like the pancakes, maybe a slice of bacon. Chocolate chips if you can sweet talk them out of Emily.” He snorted. “If? Hell, what am I saying? Emily’s sweet on you like most of the women here are.”

Some days he hated those changes in Castiel -- all of them. He missed the days of Cas chugging a beer in response to seeing a nearly naked woman prancing up to him, or how he’d been tongue-tied and stumbling to say anything at all to that woman. This new man he’d become irritated Dean on so many levels it depended what day it was as to what change irritated him at present.

While he supposed Cas couldn’t stay that naïve angel he’d been forever, Dean would have liked to have him around a bit longer. He missed the old Cas; the one constantly perplexed by human behavior. It had been a long time since Dean had had to explain much of anything to him.

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll check with Emily.”

Dean crossed his arms. “So…did you sleep in the bed with her?” He heard the carefully neutral tone that was really one step from outright jealousy and tried to tell himself it was only concern for her. They weren’t a couple anymore and hadn’t been for a long time. It was just general concern.

Cas dunked the teabag a few more times in the cup and lifted it up, letting drops drip down as he shook his head slowly. It wasn’t a denial shake Dean realized even before Cas spoke. It was a disbelieving one, like how could Dean even think he’d take advantage of Jo at any time? “What if I did?” He tossed the teabag into the trashcan.

“Naked?”

His brows rose. “She had clothes on.” Castiel picked his tray back up. “Besides, I like my women conscious, which she most certainly was not.” He brushed past Dean and moved to one table.

“Right.”

Dean left the dining hall, taking a walk about the perimeter to check on the team on watch. The previous week, he’d caught one guy sound asleep, leaving a weak spot that could be exploited if anyone was watching them. Dean just assumed they were being watched. Some would call that paranoia. He called it common sense in the world they now lived in.

All were awake, doing exactly what they were supposed to. After exchanging morning pleasantries, he headed to the supply cabin, telling Chuck he’d be back in a couple hours to see about their weekly inventory.

Every week, Chuck did a serious inventory of all goods, writing up a shopping list of things they needed to raid for. They’d take out maps and plot a course of action with great military precision. Usually within two days, they’d mobilized and returned with trucks filled to bursting. Half the time they also brought back more people, too.

At Castiel’s cabin, Dean paused. Should he go in and actually see Jo? He listened for sounds of movement or voices from the cabin. There were none.

No, he decided with a shake of his head. Not yet. Give her more time.

Instead, he followed the path to where the Impala sat, broken down and unfixable without the proper tools and parts. Wrenching open the driver’s door, he slid into the seat and leaned his head back. Maybe, just maybe, if he closed his eyes, he’d realize this was all a dream and he’d wake to a world that hadn’t gone wrong. To a world that still made sense.

But the sun was still warm on his skin and the breeze still carried the scents of the woods and sounds of the camp going about the daily business of life.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh, the very real weight of his responsibilities bowing his shoulders. After another long sigh, he drew in a breath, braced himself, and got out of the car. He had another day to get through.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo was going to be upset with him. Cas knew it and sought to take a step to soften the mood she’d be in when she woke. He arranged for that breakfast Dean had suggested, taking extra time to talk to Emily in the chance that she’d be generous with the dwindling supply of chocolate chips. She was, sprinkling a heavy layer between two pancakes.

“Powdered sugar or syrup,” she asked, hand on one ample hip.

“Which do you suggest?” He’d take both if it was for him and whipped cream too if Emily had any. This was for Jo though. Chocolate was what Dean had suggested, not the sugar or syrup.

Emily tucked her red hair behind her ears and pursed her lips. “Well…. The sugar works for me, but some people like syrup instead. Tell you what,” she leaned towards him a little with a quick smile, “I’ll put a sprinkle of powdered sugar on them and a little pot of syrup on the tray. If you don’t use the syrup, bring it back.”

“I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

The tray was ready in no time, Emily placing a cover on it and admonishing him to hurry or it’d get cold before Jo could try it. He didn’t hurry, following the path, noticing the sun, the breeze, and a hundred other reasons to be outside for part of the day. Perhaps he could coax Jo out onto the porch at least. As he reached the hand pumps that led to the old well by Dean’s cabin, Melanie fell into step beside him. She wasn’t her usual cheerful self, her shoulders slumped and steps shuffling, face downcast. The good-natured twinkle was gone from her blue eyes.

“Can I ask you something, Cas?”

“Of course.” He always tried to make time for anyone who asked, slowing his stride even more.

“I had breakfast across from Dean this morning,” she told him, slipping her hands into her jeans pockets and casting a quick glance around them, as though she expected him to walk up behind her. “He just followed me and sat down there, staring at me while I ate.”

“I see.” Dean was starting early in his quest to make Melanie cry today. While it was nice to see him striving to improve himself in some area, his choice of sport was wearing thin. If making her cry was an Olympic sport, Dean was well on his way to a gold medal. Or was it silver that was the best one? He’d never gotten that quite right. Dean hadn’t been interested in watching the games so Castiel hadn’t watched them either. “What’s your question?”

“Do you think Jo would like some company today?”

He stopped walking and shook his head. “I suspect she won’t be up to meeting anyone for a few days.”

Melanie scuffed the tow of one sneaker in the dirt and rocks on the path. Disappointment tugged her mouth into a dejected frown. “Are you sure? Because I’d be really quiet. I promise. She won’t even know I’m there. I’ll sit on the couch and read a book.”

Cas turned to face her, trying to remember where she was scheduled to work this week and what day it was. “You’re supposed to be in the supply cabin helping Chuck.”

“Please? I won’t disturb her.” Her gaze hopeful, expression indicating that she wanted to meet Jo more than anything in the world.

He didn’t have to think to read between the lines. It wasn’t a secret that she was afraid of Dean and only Dean’s presence would cause to her wish to abandon a job she normally liked. Her plea therefore meant…. “Chuck said Dean’s going to be there this morning,” he translated.

Melanie winced and crossed her arms, hugging herself. “For the weekly inventory review. Lucky me. He makes me feel stupid just by looking at me. The last time he showed up we were sorting pantry items and I dropped a whole bag of flour. The cabin floor looked like it had snow on it. And then he yelled at me.”

Cas set the tray on the picnic table nearby, motioning for her to join him there. “Dean isn’t always the easiest man to know. Believe me, we’ve had our clashes, but I don’t think he means to hurt you, Mel. Sometimes, he doesn’t think before he says things.” Plus there was his continuing habit of saying stupid things to diffuse tension. He’d once heard Sam call it foot-in-mouth disease.

“He called me a ‘naïve little screw toy’ last week before he left.” She looked away. “Just…snapped at me and I wasn’t doing anything.”

He turned his gaze briefly to Dean’s cabin, then back to her. That must have been what had made Melanie cry the day Dean had left to go after Ellen and Jo. She hadn’t told him the reason. “Okay, I’ll talk to him about that.” Reaching out, he grasped her arms, rubbed them with a light touch. “Go to laundry and talk to Alexis. I’m sure she’ll switch for today and Chuck won’t mind as long as he has someone to help him.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Problem solved.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re fully capable of making these decisions on your own, Melanie.”

“But I like asking your advice.”

It wasn’t as simple as that, he knew. What she wanted and what she searched for from everyone around her was approval. From him, from Alexis, Chuck, and even from Dean. Alexis once told him it was a maturity thing coupled with a sheltered upbringing. He enfolded Melanie in a brief hug before setting her from him. “Go. I’ve got to get Jo’s breakfast to her before it gets too cold.”

“Okay.”

Cas watched her go, a definite spring in her step now that she could avoid Dean awhile longer. While he knew he’d been very naïve once, had he ever been like Melanie? With a sigh, he picked up the tray and walked the rest of the way to his cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t molest her in the middle of the night. Jo woke enough at dawn to realize that while he’d slept in the bed with her, and naked at that, she still had her panties, bra, and that shirt on, for which she was thankful.

Castiel stretched much like a contented cat would, unselfconscious in his nudity. “Breakfast isn’t for awhile yet, Jo. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

Comforted by the fact that he hadn’t touched her in the night, Jo drifted back to sleep. When she woke, it was obviously much later than before, the sun high in the sky and the curtains all open to let in the light. Jo rolled over onto her back, the covers twisting about her body. She enjoyed a long stretch, drawing in a deep breath and noticing the faint scent of incense that she’d somehow missed the night before. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she returned to the bed, taking a brief glance in the basket near the doorway as she passed it. It was full of pill bottles and baggies of pills.

The mattress on the bed was somewhat lumpy, yet for the first time in weeks, she felt protected and very safe. She didn’t have to be alert for the infected or scavengers. She could rest and it was about damn time.

Since they’d parted from Dean and Castiel in 2011, Jo and Ellen had done the same thing they’d been doing: hunting whatever came to their attention. The only difference had been in the escalation of jobs popping up. It was as though the end of the world signified a free-for-all among supernatural beings, giving them license to converge upon the population all at once. And if that wasn’t enough, Lucifer sent the virus in January of 2012. Happy New Year, world.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked them away. It wasn’t fair. Why did she have to lose her mother when Ellen had finally started treating her like an adult? Jo swallowed hard, taking slow even breaths in an attempt to force the tears away. Turning her face into the shaft of sunlight on the pillow beside hers, she continued to breathe, blanking her mind, consciously attempting to numb herself from the emotional pain.

As she laid there, Castiel came through the beads that served as the cabin door, a tray in his hands. He set it down.

Jo sat up, drawing the covers high against her chest. She was thankful for the diversion from her own thoughts. For three days she’d dwelt far too much in her own mind. “I don’t like being drugged,” she told him in a husky, still sleepy voice, shoving her hair back off her face with one hand.

“How are you feeling,” he replied, ignoring her statement and taking the lid off the tray.

“I said I don’t like being drugged.” She repeated it slower, pulling her legs up and wrapping her arms about them, then resting her chin on her knees.

He poured two mugs of coffee, the aroma drifting to her and causing her stomach to growl, then looked at her. “I heard you. How are you feeling? Answer me on that one and we’ll address the other after you’ve eaten.”

“I shouldn’t eat or drink anything you give me.”

His hands moved items about on the tray and, after removing one mug, he brought it to her. “Put your legs flat so I can set this down.”

With the best defiant stare she could manage, Jo tightened her arms about her legs. “No. When I get up I’m punching you.”

His reaction wasn’t what she was expecting. Castiel laughed, a warm, rich and pleasant sound. “Okay. Question answered. You weren’t nearly this obstinate yesterday.” The tray was set at her feet. “You’re welcome to punch me, but can we wait until after breakfast is digested? Physical violence is best left to mid-morning at the earliest I think.”

Jo eyed the tray. The smell of the food made her stomach rumble even louder. “Maybe I’ll kick you too.”

“Okay.” His tone was affable. “Move the tray first or you get to wash the bedding yourself.” He took his mug to the couch and sat. “Eat the fruit at least and don’t let on that you wasted Emily’s pancakes to anyone. I had to fight half the camp for those.”

“You like them so much, you eat them.”

“Never said I liked them. I prefer lighter fare for breakfast and lunch and a heavier dinner. Dessert is always preferred over all, however, especially if it’s chocolate.” He gestured at the coffee. “Try the coffee. Nathan made it. He’s a coffee connoisseur, so when he’s on duty, he tries to educate us all in the perfect cup.” Observing her a moment with that still piercing gaze, he added, “Drugging you was a one-time thing. I promise. I’ll never drug you again unless you ask me to.”

The pancakes were awfully tempting, as was the coffee. “In what world would I ask to be drugged?”

He glanced at the window behind her and sighed. “I apologize, Jo. I’m the one who wants to spend my time drugged. I’ll make you a deal. If those are drugged and you pass out again, when you wake up, you can beat the crap out of me and I promise not to defend myself. I’ll lie there and wait for you to finish making certain I’m aware of the error of my action. In case you break my jaw or something, let me say right now that I’m well aware of my transgression and shall never repeat it.” One hand raised, palm up, in a quick emphasizing gesture. “Unless you tell me to.”

She wanted to be outraged and remain that way, yet in all honesty, she couldn’t summon the energy. In his place, she might even have done the same thing. Jo sat cross-legged and reached for the plate. He’d brought pancakes, a little fruit, and a piece of bacon. Using the fork, she lifted the edge of one pancake. Chocolate was smeared between the pancakes. She could smell the sweet scent of it. “Are those chocolate chips in the center?”

His head dipped in a nod. “Emily did me a favor. Chocolate is therapeutic. Or so I’ve heard and if anyone could use some of that therapy right now….”

She worked her way through half of it before pushing the tray away and settling back to enjoy the coffee.

He got up and came to the bedside, looking first at the tray, then her. “You only ate half.” His tone wasn’t accusing or angry for the wasted food, merely curious.

“It was good, but…I haven’t been eating much lately. Just not that hungry.”

“Define lately. A week? More?”

Jo looked away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him remove the tray and set it near the doorway. The food was heavy in her stomach. “Five days. Since Dean found us.”

Her lack of appetite wasn’t because of Dean. His presence had simply coincided with that nervous gut-clench that kept her from wanting much in the way of sustenance. Between the infected and her mother’s death, her appetite had disappeared. Jo hadn’t been able to force much beyond a single bite here and there down. Dean had tried to get her to eat, tossing food at her like she should be grateful he bothered to give her anything. One more bit of tension on that drive here.

“You’ll get your appetite back,” he assured her. “It may take awhile, but it’ll happen.”

While she hated the fact that Castiel had drugged her, she felt better overall. Her head was clearer and she thought that maybe, just maybe, she could get through a few hours without crying for her mom.

She was wrong. Merely thinking about her mom brought on the waterworks.

“Cry as much and as often as you want.” He returned to the couch and his coffee.

“I’m not crying.” She wiped at her eyes, dabbed at them with the sheet.

“You don’t have to be resolute in front of me. I’ve had my share of tears in the recent past. I won’t begrudge you yours.”

The kindness and understanding in his voice made the urge to wail stronger. No, she told herself. I’m not going to break down. “I’m not crying.” Jo took a long gulp of the hot brew, searching for some other topic to bring up. “You could have slept on the couch.”

With a glance at the cushions he currently sat on, he replied, “Have you tried sleeping on this couch? I don’t recommend it. The bed is more comfortable. Why would I give up comfort for torture?” The mug was drained, placed on the table, beside three bottles.

“Um…decency? Because I was already on it?”

He didn’t understand, a puzzled gleam in his eyes that reminded Jo of earlier days in their acquaintance, when she’d watched Dean trying to explain something that Castiel didn’t quite grasp. It was reassuring in a bizarre way to see that he still didn’t ‘get’ some things.

She tried again. “Respect for someone you barely know?”

“We know each other well enough. What was indecent? You slept. I slept. We both slept.”

“Yeah…” She raised her brows. “But you slept naked, Cas.” Drinking the last of her coffee, she put the mug on the flat top of the chest beside the bed.

He nodded. “Yes. I always sleep naked. Sleeping clothes combined with sheets and covers tangle. I dislike the sensation of being trapped in a cocoon. Reminds me of one particularly unpleasant encounter with a demon who called herself ‘Meg’. The easiest solution was nudity.”

“What did she do?”

His expression shifted, grew serious, the pain glinting in his eyes strong enough that Jo could see it from the bed. “She died. And was very surprised that I killed her. She’s one of those things I self-medicate to forget, Jo.”

“Oh.” Jo tugged the covers up again. She could understand that. There were a few things she wanted to forget herself aside from recent days. “How long have you been actually sleeping?”

“You mean like humans?” At her nod, he shrugged. “I started needing sleep back while you were still seeing Dean. At first it was an hour, maybe two, but as the weeks passed, it developed into a full-blown need for a solid eight hours. Sometimes even ten hours.”

“Ten hours?” She gestured to the basket across the room. “It’s probably all those pills over there doing that.”

He chuckled, a low rumble. “Sometimes it is. I’ll admit that.”

“So…was the nudity your solution to the problem?” Jo smothered a small smile at the thought of Dean suggesting that solution. She very much doubted he had. It was more likely he’d told Cas to ‘suck it up’ and ‘wear clothes like a man’.

“Yes. Dean was appalled, insisted it was against the natural order of things for me to sleep naked in the same room he was sleeping in. I argued that we had two beds and he was being prudish.” He laid back, hands clasping beneath his head. “He lost the argument. I certainly know more about ‘natural order’ than he does. He had to concede that though he didn’t want to.” He glanced at her. “His solution to my solution was then separate rooms.”

“That was why you went from one room to two right before Dean and I called it quits.”

“Yes.”

They continued to talk, but it wasn’t long before Jo could no longer hold back her sorrow. The tears wouldn’t stop falling. Within a few seconds of her sobs beginning, Cas had joined her on the bed. His arms went around her like she’d thought Dean’s would on the drive there, one hand easing her head to his chest. Jo curled against Castiel and let herself cry out the pain of loss.

He held her, not saying anything, simply…being there. He stroked her hair and her back with a hand, rocking her a little. It was exactly what she needed, when she needed it, and rather than leave the comfort of that embrace, Jo stayed long after the bout of tears faded.

She was tucked back beneath the covers after that, Cas wiping her face with a cool cloth in gentle sweeps until she fell back asleep.