Title: Blood and Anesthetic

Chapter: 5

~~~~~~~~~

The supply cabin was where Dean’s temper over Jo’s voice began to crack. It wasn’t a big thing that made him start to lose it, but rather a tiny thing that shouldn’t have caused a breaking point.

Chuck and Castiel were making up the team lists, having divided the requests into camp necessity, personal necessity, and frivolous items. They took those piles of requests and a store map of wherever the next raid was planned for, and plotted a quick, efficient path to obtain the items, focusing on necessities first. Dean hardly paid attention anymore to the process, as Chuck had it perfected.

He waited for them to finish and hand him the finished plan to look over, his thoughts moving from one subject to another in no particular order: Emily had that last piece of apple pie squirreled away for him to eat with coffee later in the afternoon, that tiny cabin on the other side of camp needed repairs to be usable, he was really in the mood to sit with a six pack of beer and watch Die Hard movies all day instead of this leadership crap. Smothering a yawn with one hand, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, so tired of being tired that it wasn’t funny. If he didn’t get a good night’s sleep soon, he was going to go postal and --

Chuck asked about Jo, and all of Dean’s frustrations with her silence reared up. She was going to talk to him one way or another. His ultimatum had both men staring at him as though he’d lost his mind.

Maybe he finally had.

~~~~~~~~~~

Truth be told, Castiel rather liked working up the request lists. He found it relaxing to tally up the items needed in columns and organize the information into something workable. Doing that was better than being one of the ones going out on raids and missions, though he still did that from time to time. This morning, he slipped in a few requests of his own, including a bottle of shampoo for Jo. She’d run out of that trial sized sample and while he’d told her to go ahead and use his, the bottle was going to be empty soon with both of them using it.

As if they were on the same wavelength, Chuck looked over at him, “Hey, Cas, does Jo need anything?” His pen was poised over the papers on his clipboard. “She never came in for refills, so I was wondering if she’d made it all stretch this long. She should be needing something soon I’d think, even if it’s just…female stuff.”

Castiel shook his head. While she’d asked about the procedure for procuring more soap and shampoo, she hadn’t indicated actually wanting more yet. Chuck was right though. Unless her cycle was messed up, Jo would need ‘female stuff’ very soon. “Nothing that she’s mentioned to me, but we should probably --”

“Tell her if she wants anything she can go out on the raid.” Dean stepped forward, lips tight and nostrils flaring. A sure sign of anger, but Cas wasn’t sure why he was angry.

He exchanged a perplexed glance with Chuck. “She’s not ready,” he pointed out, something Dean would know if he’d been paying attention to Cas’s reports on her every couple days. Jo was hardly near the point of stepping outside the camp fence for two minutes, let alone going on a raid. She’d shown no interest in any aspect of those skills necessary for being outside the camp for any length of time, spending her time reading, talking with him, putting puzzles together with Melanie or playing card games. As far as he knew, she’d avoided the shooting range and other areas Dean had set up for training those interested in going on raids and missions.

“If she’s not, then she can tell me that herself. I’ll listen.” In three strides, Dean was to them, snatching the clipboard from Chuck and looking it over. “I’ll listen long and hard to whatever she wants to tell me.”

“You can’t force her to be ready to go out, Dean. She’s healing, not healed. It’ll take more than a couple weeks and even then she might never be ready.”

“Oh wait.” Dean met Cas’s eyes, talking as though Castiel hadn’t said a word. “She doesn’t actually talk to me.” He shrugged. “Guess she’s SOL for basic supplies…unless she wants to loosen her lips any.”

Castiel raised his brows, mulling over the order and wondering if Dean had considered the sheer stupidity of it. Everyone needed the basics. They’d never denied anyone that unless there were no supplies to be had. “Let me get this straight. You’re forbidding her to pick up toiletries unless she goes on the raid?”

“Yes.”

“You refuse to let her have shampoo, soap, and all the basic things a woman needs unless she talks to you, reducing her to begging you for them?” He was careful to choose that word ‘begging’ and emphasize it to try and ram home to Dean what the order he was issuing really meant.

He flushed a little, but stood his ground on the issue, raising his chin a notch. While the set of his jaw indicated he would hold his position with all of the stubbornness in his body, his response was late enough that Cas knew Dean realized he was being unreasonable. “Yes.”

Chuck backed away from them. As usual, he preferred to flee in the face of a possible physical altercation rather than stay. “I’m…uh…going to check on…something.” He left the building with hasty steps.

“Okay.” Cas nodded. “Let me be the first to tell you that that’s a stupid idea. It’s quite possibly one of the stupidest you’ve ever had. You know Jo. You know how she reacts. If you think she’s upset with you now, you implement this and you might never hear her voice again in friendly conversation with you. It’s coercion, Dean. Dirty tactics. It’s forcing her to do something against her will. You can’t force her and expect things to get better between you.”

“You got a problem with it?” He jerked his thumb at the front of the cabin. “There’s the door.”

Granted, he could see that Dean was hurting and the hurt was causing this order, but it seemed far too drastic. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Tell her to come see me when she’s ready to talk. She’s been here half a month…. I’ll give her about another week before she really needs those basics.”

“Take a minute and think about this.” Already, he could think of several ways around that order and waited for Dean to think of them, too, tapping his pen on the clipboard in his hands. “Do you honestly want her to speak to you because you’re making her? Wouldn’t you rather sit down with her and be able to talk freely at least some day in the future?”

Dean set down that clipboard he’d taken from Chuck and rested his hands on the table, his head down. “I’d love to. Can you convince her to do that?”

It was Jo’s decision to talk to Dean. Castiel couldn’t make her and refused to try. “No.”

“Then relay the message.” Dean turned his head, glancing over his shoulder.

The call was a bad one to make. In Dean’s present mood, there’d be no changing his mind. Instead of trying, Cas nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

“Tell her now. I’ll wait.”

As he’d predicted, Jo’s reaction to the ultimatum was speechless shock, then white-hot anger. Her hand shook as she wrote out a list on a slip of paper.

“He wants words,” she said, shoving her hair back from her forehead, “I’ll give him a few choice ones.”

He didn’t follow her back to the supply cabin. He suspected he’d be able to hear the resulting explosion from right where he was.

~~~~~~~~~~

If Dean was trying for the biggest jackass award, he was a shoo in.

Jo stalked to the supply cabin, muttering under her breath the entire way, a list in hand of things she was going to need very soon, as in only a couple days. She went up the steps into it and over to where Dean was waiting, slamming the list down onto the table and resting her hand on it.

“I’m not ready. Screw you. Who the hell do you think you are? Quit being such a damn insensitive prick. What gives you the right to tell me I can’t have shampoo, or toothpaste…or tampons? What’s wrong with you? You bring me here, barely say a word to me and then expect me to chat and thank you when you couldn’t be bothered comforting me after I lost my mother? My mother, Dean! After I watched her torn apart? Jerk. Completely self-centered, tactless, moronic jackass. You’re lucky I don’t punch you.” She stepped back, holding up her hands. They shook from the force of her anger. “There. I talked. Happy now?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she snapped, hands curling into fists as she reigned her temper in further. If she let herself, she’d start punching him and right now, she really didn’t want to get into it with him. She didn’t want to start something she wasn’t ready to actually finish.

“Good. Anything else?”

Now she crossed her arms and pursed her lips, intent on giving him silence once more.

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say to me?”

Raising a brow, she directed her best ‘you’re such an ass’ stare his way.

She watched his stony expression ease the barest fraction, his head dipping in a nod. “Fine. I’ll see you get these.”

Lips tight, Jo turned to go and stopped before she’d gone five steps, surprised by the request he suddenly blurted out.

~~~~~~~~~~

He couldn’t say she hadn’t fulfilled the terms of his order, for she had. She’d talked, telling him in no uncertain terms the sort of dick he was being.

She was absolutely right.

Disgust at his actions filled him as he watched her walk away and he tried, belatedly, to fix his gaffe. “Jo.” When she stopped, back to him, he continued, glad she didn’t just keep walking for once. “If you’re not ready to go out, maybe you could give Chuck a hand in here, look over the set-up. I remember Ellen used to run a pretty tight ship at the Roadhouse and you learned it all. I’m sure you’ve got a few pointers you can share. Maybe a change in procedure or set-up or something.”

He paused, attempting to get a feel for her mood. Had she softened at all? Was she still beyond pissed? Once, he would have gone to her, slowly sliding his fingers down her spine until he reached her waist, hand moving to rest on her hip. He’d bend, breathe a quiet ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me?’ into her ear and wait for her to relax back against him. When she did, he’d turn her and kiss her, all the while wondering why she kept forgiving him because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Dean couldn’t afford that now. He couldn’t let anyone close because tomorrow he might just have to kill them. Like he had Bobby. “Your help would be appreciated.” The words were stilted and awkward in his mouth. “Please.”

She was slow to glance back at him. Was she remembering too? After a long moment, she nodded her consent to the suggestion and started for the door again.

Dean didn’t want the genial mood to end, for he knew it was only a lull. They’d never been very good at calm discourse. Those mild arguments they’d had, like the one in Philadelphia over her staying there, were only the beginning. Once they’d begun seeing each other in earnest, the arguments had escalated. Jo had that instinctive urge to fight against anything she thought unfair or wrong and Dean…. After Sam, he’d found it harder and harder not to argue, leaning far on the end of sarcasm and cynicism. Put the two together and they exploded. “Jo.”

She’d reached the door, hand on the knob.

“I miss her too.” His voice broke, cracking on the last word, the tight grip he had on his emotions slipping.

Jo’s head bowed for the space of two breaths before she opened the door and left.

The admission brought on a crashing wave of sorrow. He wished he’d been able to save Ellen; that she was here with them. She’d been like a mother to him.

An ache began to rise in his chest and he swallowed hard, willing it away, refusing to collapse in a quivering puddle of helpless tears. He didn’t have time to wallow in sadness. There were other things he had to do and an entire camp of people to care for. There was nothing he could do for the dead.

It was the living who needed him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two days later, Cas returned from the supply cabin with a large paper sack, pulling out the items inside and setting them on the bed. Everything she’d asked for was there. Shampoo, soap, safety razor, toothpaste, tampons. “That’s everything, right?”

“Yeah.” She sat on the edge of the bed and contemplated the items. “Why is he acting like this?”

Cas sat beside her, putting an arm around her and nudging her head onto his shoulder. “Too little sleep, too much all over pain, too much responsibility. Take your pick.”

It wasn’t anything she didn’t already know, the same story from when they’d been together only on a much larger scale. The world had not let Dean Winchester relax. His responsibilities had only grown as the world raced towards the conclusion of Lucifer’s plan.

For a week, Jo spent her days with Chuck. He apologized profusely for what he’d told her the day they’d met. She got the feeling he was just one of those guys who had a hard time talking to women. A little shy maybe.

She learned about the process of acquiring supplies from beginning to end, scrutinized his shelving system, and learned every bit of information he had to share, which ended up being far more than she’d anticipated. He told her about the generators, showed her where they were and how to run them if needed. Melanie was there most days and Cas clarified a few points on labeling the requests that Chuck had been too vague on. When that week was over, Jo knew she could run the supply process if she had to.

During the entire time, Jo watched Dean interact with those around him, coming to the conclusion that Dean didn’t want anything deeper from anyone. Even if the two of them had waited until now, they still wouldn’t have worked. She was just as changed as Dean. What she wanted, love and comfort, he was now fully unable to give her. He’d locked that part of himself away.

The only thing he could offer her was protection from the world outside as long as there was breath in his body.

She continued to stay with Castiel, a little surprised he hadn’t made a single mention of her living elsewhere. He really did appear to enjoy having her there all hours of day and night, a thing that made her feel good. She liked how he would drop everything to hold her and how she woke up snuggled against him. She enjoyed the touch of his hands on her skin. He somehow made even the most innocent of touches seem intimate.

When she’d first met him, she hadn’t felt a single pull of sexual attraction, yet here, now, she experienced a jolt of desire at the oddest times. Like when he was sprawled on the couch or bed reading a book, his profile to her. Or when he laughed at a joke someone had told, his laugh pure warmth. Or when she woke up at four a.m. with him asleep beside her, features relaxed. She’d watch him, wanting to run her fingertips across his lips and cover his mouth with her own. What would he do if she did just that?

Jo imagined he’d respond, kissing her back. He’d do what he already did: he’d take her in his arms and make her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was physically attracted to Jo.

The revelation wasn’t sudden, nor was it surprising. Jo was a beautiful woman.

Castiel’s dreams at night had become largely sexual, pleasurable instead of the nightmares he’d been facing. He dreamed of Jo, waking several times with the strong urge to roll over and take her, to bury himself inside her.

The effort to restrain himself was great, but he reminded himself that it was her decision. He wasn’t going to push her.

He endured that sexual tension rising between them, enjoyed the experience and wondered just how long they could drag it out before succumbing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Happiness was irrelevant in the world they lived in. Dean knew it. There was no happy ending on the horizon unless he found the Colt and killed Lucifer and since that didn’t appear to be coming anytime soon, happiness meant nothing. Still, he wanted Jo to be happy. He wanted to see her smile again; to hurry her healing along instead of hindering it as he seemed to do every time he opened his mouth around her, so he backed off.

He let her go her way and he went his, continuing to receive reports from Cas on her every couple days. There were afternoons where he thought about all those things she’d liked, mentally running down that list in an attempt to think of a gift he could give her that might make her happy. When he decided he’d found a good one, he went on a raid with Chuck’s team, packaging up the item he’d picked up himself rather than letting Chuck and his helpers do it.

“Here, Chuck.” He handed the bag to him. “Give this to Jo.”

“You’re sure?” Chuck was confused, brows drawing together, holding the bag like he thought there was a bomb inside it.

“What do you mean, am I sure? Of course I’m sure. Give the bag to Jo.”

“Sure. Yeah. Okay. It’s just that…you gave that order….”

“It’s rescinded. Besides, this isn’t something she absolutely needs.”

Understanding glinted in his eyes. “Oh, so it’s a present.” He nodded, jerking his thumb behind him. “I’ve got some real wrapping paper if you’d rather wrap it up properly --”

“Just give it to her. No wrapping paper, just the bag.”

He stuck around, waiting outside, pretending to be occupied with the engine of one of the vehicles there until he heard Chuck call out to Jo. He’d known she’d be along eventually. Her afternoon walks usually brought her this way. Going around back, he went through that door, careful not to make any noise to alert her to his presence. He watched her open the bag and draw out the present, straining to hear their voices, but they both talked so low that he only heard a word here and there. Her smile made his day…until it faded and she told Chuck to shelve his gift. She wouldn’t accept it.

She wouldn’t accept it because it was from him.

Raising a hand, he ran it through his hair, teeth biting into his lip so hard he tasted blood. He wanted to step out there and demand she explain, but instead he stole away before either of them noticed him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aimless wandering was the goal for the day, Jo giving Castiel some time alone with Maggie and Alexis. She was passing by the supply cabin when she heard Chuck calling to her.

“Watcha need,” she asked, crossing the lot to him. Help perhaps? He had to be overflowing with items now, the team that had gone out returning with everything that had been requested and more. He was probably still trying to sort through it all.

“I, uh, I got something in here for you.” One hand beckoned and Jo followed him inside the cabin.

Odd. She’d refrained from asking for anything more than what she needed. Chuck’s job was hard enough without her adding to it with silly demands for things she didn’t need. “I didn’t ask for anything. With all the others asking, I figured why add to your stress.”

“No, I know. It wasn’t you.” He went to a pile of request bags and sorted through them, finally picking up one and holding it out to her.

She took it. “Did Cas get me something?”

“No, it wasn’t him.”

Jo waited for a further explanation, but he appeared hesitant to give her one, his gaze moving away from her and about the room like he couldn’t decide where to look. Opening the bag, she drew out the contents: a large bottle of sesame body oil. It wasn’t Neutrogena brand, a generic instead, but it was basically the same thing.

Chuck’s voice was soft, halting. “It was Dean. He went with the team on the raid and came back with that especially for you. It’s a gift. I think it’s an apology, though he didn’t say it was.”

She held the bottle in her hands, staring down at it. “He remembered.” Jo hadn’t thought he would, though she should have known. He’d liked to watch her smooth the oil over her skin right after her shower, a habit that sometimes caused her to need another shower a little while later after he got all worked up. She smiled at the pleasant memory.

“Well, he did try for months to memorize every little thing about you.”

“You know about that?” After they’d fought and made up, Dean would make a verbal list of everything he knew she liked. He’d start with food, work his way through popular culture and toiletries, and when he finished, he’d kiss her and tell her he was sorry for whatever it was he’d done that time. She’d forgive him. She always did, except for that last time.

Not once had he promised not to do it again.

Her smile faded and she flipped open the lid, sniffing the oil. It had been a long time since she’d used any. After they’d broken up for good, she’d always associated the oil with Dean and with that endless circle of fighting and making up. Jo sighed, closing the cap and setting the bottle on the desk.

“Put it on the shelves. I can’t take this, Chuck.”

“It’s a gift.”

“It’s a reminder of how things were. Sweet on the outside…” she folded the paper sack neatly and laid it on the desk as well, “…not quite right inside. Someone else can enjoy it. I can’t.”

The bittersweet gift put her in a melancholy mood, something Cas picked up on that evening. He didn’t invite anyone over for cards or anything, letting her set the tone for the evening. Jo lounged on the bed, watching him replace the candles that had burned down too far to relight.

“For so long I wanted to be tough. Then I had to. Now, I don’t want to be. I want to let someone else do the fighting. Does that make sense?”

His glance turned to her, then back to the candles. “Yes.” With a long taper, he began to light them, one by one, until the room was well-lit. “It’s okay to let the others do the fighting out there. It’s okay to want to step back.”

“What I want and what I feel are two different things. I feel like I should be out there.”

“You feel an obligation instilled inside you years ago.” When he turned to look at her, his expression was a bit sad, the candlelight darkening his eyes. “If you’re patient, it can…fade…until what you want eclipses the feeling.”

“Fade,” she began, leaning back on her hands. “You mean like a former angel not wanting to face what his brethren did to him, so he anesthetizes himself with drugs, alcohol, and women?”

“The finest anesthetic dulls the worst of pains,” he returned, crossing to join her on the bed. One hand raised, fingers sliding along her jaw, curving on the back of her neck. “Do you need something to dull your pains, Jo?”

“Need? Probably not.” She scooted a bit closer, heartbeat quickening. “Want however? Maybe anesthetic isn’t such a bad idea.”

“I could be your painkiller.”

“You already are.”

“Flattering.”

“Truth.”

“And I haven’t really tried yet.” He leaned closer, lips nearly touching hers.

Anticipation skittered along her skin. She tilted her head a little to one side in invitation, eyes closing, felt the first press of his mouth to hers…and then nothing but frustration as there was a rapping of knuckles on the doorframe, Cas drawing back from her.

“I’m not interrupting anything am I?” Dean stood there, seeming rather pleased by that prospect.

Cas released her and turned his head to look at Dean. “We were having a philosophical discussion on the merits of anesthetic.”

“Of course you were. Do you have a minute?”

“I’ve nothing but at present.” He gestured towards the end of the bed with one hand. “Join us, oh fearless leader.”

“Thanks. I’d rather speak to you outside.”

The mood was broken, and by the time Castiel returned from that chat, Jo was reading. He didn’t interrupt her, merely got undressed, slipped beneath the covers and fell asleep beside her. She set the book aside as his breaths turned even and deep, easing from the bed and blowing out the candles before going to bed herself.

Jo’s dreams that night were rousing things that left her restless upon waking, seriously contemplating grabbing Cas and kissing him. She spent the day in that state of restlessness, watching him whenever he was in the cabin with her. Several times, she almost kissed him, yet drew back before she could do more than move an inch or two towards him.

Day slid into night.

He took their jackets from the hooks. “Campfire should be going strong now. Let’s head on over.”

Every Saturday, there was a campfire with some sort of food, a way to socialize and relax. Someone, Jo reflected, had gone to a lot of trouble to make this seem like a normal camp, complete with structure. They were big on structure here and maybe that was good. Maybe it really did help. The children seemed to do well with it at least. Was it Bobby who’d insisted on these pieces of normal activity that made up their days? She could almost hear his voice saying that, ‘We gotta do something for these people. Keep ‘em sane somehow’. Or maybe it had been Dean, doing his best to give the survivors they found some sort of life to cling to that made sense.

She walked over with Castiel, hand in hand like they were teenagers on a date or something. The thought amused her. Melanie, Alexis and Chuck were already there, waiting with their allotted graham crackers, marshmallows and chocolate bars. Emily had amassed enough smores supplies for everyone to have two or three should they choose. Jo thought the woman must have been saving those items for weeks.

It made her smile to watch Castiel put the treats together, standing with one young boy of about nine discussing the right state of goo that needed to be obtained, both grinning as their marshmallows browned. Cas roasted marshmallows for her, while the boy, it turned out, wanted to give his to Alexis, claiming she was the best schoolteacher he’d ever had. Jo wondered where his family was and shoved that thought back, smiling wider at the sight of Chuck handing Melanie the treat he’d put together.

When they’d eaten their fill, she sat beside Cas on a log before the fire, his arm a brace behind her back. The chill evening air made her drowsy and Jo rested her head on his shoulder. It seemed natural when his hand raised, fingers tipping her chin up and lips touching hers. She tasted the marshmallows and chocolate on her tongue, a remnant of sweet adding to the sweetness of the kiss itself. Though that kiss was long, slow and deep, Jo didn’t feel self-conscious beneath the scrutiny of the camp. She simply enjoyed Cas’s embrace and the fact that he wanted to kiss her in front of all of them.