Title: Consequences of Action

Chapter: 9

~~~~~~~~~~

The first notebook was all about the time up to Dean and Risa’s wedding. The second, as far as he could tell from a glance at the first few pages, a few pages in the center, and the last few pages, dealt mostly with Jo and Ellen. Dean was curious what had happened to them and waffled a moment over skipping it to go on to the current binder. It’d be easy to go back to it, he decided. The current one then, took up from the wedding and wove Jo and her group into the events leading up to Cas bringing them into the camp.

As he read through the current notebook, Dean was relieved to discover Chuck had been exaggerating. Like the first notebook, the stories within held very few sex scenes. While there were the occasional graphic ones, for the most part, each were fade to black scenes that left the impression that a passionate time had been had by the parties involved.

He sympathized with Jo’s feelings of inadequacy as she led her people, fully understood her choice to play things close to her chest, and thought Chuck did a wonderful job of conveying her relief at seeing Castiel waiting at the rest stop. Dean knew what the weight of leadership felt like and had for a very long time. Some days, the weight was so terrible he wanted to run away, curl into a ball, and forget it all. He persevered through those feelings. There were people who depended on him and people he depended on himself. Dean had Castiel and Risa, and he’d once had Bobby as well as his support system. He didn’t know what he would have done without them. They kept him going, kept him sane, and when things became too much for him, they were there for him.

They were family just as much as Sam had been. In a world gone mad, they were a dear blessing to him, especially Risa.

Reading Risa’s feelings about things he’d said and done, and her jealousy of Castiel, made him feel like he understood her a little better in areas he hadn’t understood her. He hadn’t known just how deep her jealousy of Cas had gone. Maybe he should have realized how hurt she was whenever he told Castiel things, but wouldn’t tell her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. All he’d wanted to do was protect her from all of the crap he’d gone through. She didn’t need more cluttering up an already crappy world, but apparently he was wrong. She needed to know those things.

It was eye-opening to read it all the way Chuck had written it. Most people didn’t have the luxury of knowing how others really felt and he decided to take what he read and use it to understand those people better.

But then he came upon Jo and Castiel.

‘She was surprised by how relieved she felt by his acceptance and then immediately ashamed by it as well. She didn’t want to admit even to herself that she wanted him to take control of the situation; to take her objections and set them aside; to make it okay for her to have casual sex with him. She wanted him to remove the responsibility from her. After years of keeping a tight reign on herself by necessity, it was difficult to let go even when she wanted to.’

Keep reading or no?

Dean shifted in his chair, glancing across the cabin at Risa. She was mending one of his shirts, head bent to the task, her hair loose about her shoulders. He’d known he was going to come to a scene like this. Cas had already told him. Glancing back at the page, Dean read a little more, flipping the page. Uncomfortable, he flipped another page, then another, until he reached the end of the chapter and saw that the new chapter had no sex on the first page at all. Once, he might have read the descriptions of Jo, but Chuck was right. Best to leave Jo and Cas some privacy.

The chapters detailed events right up to the present. Dean wondered why Chuck had said things were going to get weird, because there wasn’t anything in the notebook after Jo’s decision to talk to him in the office. He didn’t know what their conversation would be like or what weird meant.

Closing the binder, he pondered all he’d learned.

“Done?”

“Huh?” He turned his head and looked at Risa. She was finished with the shirt, putting away the needle and thread, and laying the shirt on the end of the bed.

“Chuck’s writing, Dean. You done reading? You’ve been engrossed in it for days. He any good?”

She was looking interested. Not a good sign. Dean attempted to dissuade her from thinking she might want to read any of it with a hearty disparaging of Chuck’s talent that he was sure Chuck would understand under the circumstances. “No, not really. It, uh, needs a lot of polish. It’s pretty amateurish actually. I’ve written better which isn’t saying much for his work, but he’s a friend so….”

“Oh. What kind of story is it?”

“He went for action with a little horror and some romance.” A slightly accurate accounting of what the pages contained.

“And he’s not good at any of that?”

“Not especially.” He set the binder down, shoved it a little under the chair.

“It’s nice of you to read it.”

“Sometimes I can be nice.”

She smiled and came over to him. “I’m going to get some lunch. You joining me today?”

“I’d like nothing more.” Taking her hand, he let her tug him up. Before she could move away, he drew her against him. “Hey. You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too.”

“I mean, I say it enough, show you enough?”

Risa slid her hands up his arms to wrap her arms about his neck. “Is something wrong, Dean?”

“No, I’ve been thinking. I know I haven’t been the most emotionally available guy sometimes, or the most forthcoming with real details on my past, but this here between us is good. I want to make sure it stays that way, so I’m sorry about Cas and how --”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m okay with Castiel. We had a long talk one morning and we’re fine. I doubt I’ll be best buddies with him, but we understand each other. He cleared up a few things for me.”

Cas and Jo had both cleared up things for her. Chuck had written those conversations. Risa knew some details now and it didn’t hurt him as much as he’d thought it would for her to know them. Someday soon he was going to sit down with her and tell her everything she wanted to know, nothing held back.

Just because Chuck hadn’t written it, didn’t mean it didn’t happen. Like this conversation. It wasn’t one in the pages of the book. It was good to know that Chuck didn’t necessarily see everything.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the darkness of his cabin, the curtains closed and the slightly dented lamp giving off low light, Chuck reached beneath his bed and pulled out a fourth notebook that contained the pages he’d removed from the one Dean had found. He took it to his table and sat down with pen in hand, taking out the sheets on the very top and laying them down.

“Yes, I took them out the binder he wanted, just like you said to,” he whispered into the still air, head cocked a little. “I’m calm now. I know, I shouldn’t have panicked, but….” Nodding, he replied, “Yes, he took the second one, too.”

Chuck listened, then reached out and scratched out a full paragraph of dialogue. He chuckled a little. “That’s Dean for you. Always changing the script.” He laughed a little more. “He is the poster boy for free will.”

His free hand raised, rubbed at his temple, where a low throbbing had begun. The voice inside his head quieted and the scenes began to flow. Chuck bent over the paper.

Like he’d told Dean, weird was coming and it was coming fast.

~~~~~~~~~~

The bookshelves in supplies were a wonderful mix of genres. Castiel had found romances shoved next to westerns and hard science fiction, and textbooks mixed with graphic novels. He searched the shelves now, slowly walking back and forth, reading the titles, looking for one he remembered having seen months earlier.

“You looking for something, Cas?”

Turning his head, he found Chuck watching him. He pointed a finger at the shelves. “Medical textbook?”

“We have one of those?”

“We did. I need it.”

“You need it.”

As he returned his attention to the shelves, he saw Kylie sitting on the floor at the end, a stack of paperbacks beside her. She appeared riveted by the story of the one she had open, her eyes wide and lips parted. “Yes, I need it.”

“Why?” Chuck approached the shelves and began looking as well.

“I want to look up fetus development. Jo said medical texts sometimes have color plates and I wish to see what our child looks like.” He glanced at Chuck. “Why are you staring?”

“The baby is like the size of a kidney bean or something right now, Cas. There’s nothing to see.”

He felt deflated by the news and a little sad. “Oh.”

Chuck stepped closer. “But it’s going to grow bigger.”

“Obviously.” Castiel rolled his eyes. He knew that much.

“No, I mean babies grow pretty fast inside. It’ll be the size of your fist before you know it and then bigger until it’s…baby sized.”

“You know about babies?”

He shook his head, turning away and walking to the end of the shelves, voice raising as he stepped over Kylie’s books and leaned over, stretching to reach behind the table. “No, I don’t know a thing about babies, but here’s one of those baby books for Jo.” He pulled out a book that had a very pregnant woman on the cover. “It talks about the whole process, tells what to expect. She should read it.” Crouching down, he ran a finger along the titles on the lower shelf. “Here. Try this one.”

Castiel took both books, opening the textbook and glancing at the table of contents for the illustrations. A slow smile tugged his lips. “Week by week illustrations and some ultrasound pictures.” Cas turned to the page, smile widening. He touched the illustration with a finger. “Look. Fingers. Earlobes.” He glanced at Chuck and back at the page. “The baby has fingers and earlobes, Chuck.”

Chuck peered at the pages. “I see that. You should take that with you.”

Nodding, he turned to go, book still open in his hands, and noticed Kylie hurrying from the cabin, her stack of books still on the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~

The opportunity to tell Dean came within the week. Jo found herself alone in the office cabin with him. Several times she started to say something, stopping each time and reevaluating how she’d planned to tell him. It was important to Jo that Dean was happy for them.

“Spit it out, Jo,” he said crossing his arms on the table edge and looking over at her. “Quite hemming and hawing and say what you’re trying to.”

She leaned against the table. “I’m pregnant.”

His reaction wasn’t quite what she’d thought it would be. Dean blinked a few times, then sat back. “You okay with it?” There was no surprise in his eyes. Surely Castiel hadn’t already told him? She’d asked him not to.

“I am. Which is strange, because the thought of being pregnant always seemed rather scary to me before.” Ellen probably hadn’t helped. She’d made pregnancy sound horrible, recounting stories she’d heard and indicating to Jo that her birth hadn’t exactly been easy. It wasn’t the pregnancy itself that scared her now.

“Is Cas okay with it? I’m assuming you told him already, right?”

“I told him. I told him the day I knew I was right. He’s beyond happy. Keeps saying he never thought he’d ever be a father and is looking forward to it. He found a medical textbook over in supplies on the bookshelves and has been looking at those color illustrations of baby development like they’re fascinating. He keeps saying things like ‘next week, the baby will have toes’.”

Dean smiled. He could picture Castiel saying that, too, complete with solemn, too-serious expression. A sudden thought hit him. If Jo was pregnant, did that mean it was possible that Risa could conceive too? He didn’t think it had been possible, but now he had hopes he’d not had to that end. “To him they are fascinating. If he’s excited by it, that’s great, Jo.” Stretching out a hand, he snagged one of the pads of paper on the table and a pen. He clicked the pen open. “Let’s make some plans. I know we’ve got awhile yet, but it might take that long to get ready for the birth. Got an idea of what we’ll need for you?”

Coming to the table, she sat in one of the chairs. “No, not really. Aside from the obvious basics like hot water, soap, painkiller, blankets, and the baby things, I’ve no idea what’s needed.”

“You’re a girl.”

He said it like being a girl meant she’d know the details and Jo stared at him. “Like that means I automatically know the ins and outs of childbirth. All I know is it hurts, it’s gross, and hopefully the baby comes out healthy and I won’t die from it.”

“Okay. That’s about all I know about it. What do you think we’ll need?”

She thought a moment, trying to remember those things she’d come up with earlier. “Um…we’ll need someone to read up on procedure and deliver the baby. Sterile scissors for the cord. Bandages and first aid supplies for a worst case scenario. Blankets, bottles, painkiller. Lots of painkiller, because I’m not doing natural birth.”

“You might have to.”

“No. Not going to happen.”

“Jo.” He set the pen down and crossed his arms on the table again.

“No, Dean. I can handle a lot of pain, but pain there? No. I want drugs, so we need to start finding them now.”

“And if we don’t find any? You planning on keeping the kid in there?” She didn’t answer him and he scooted the pen around in a circle with one finger. “We’ll do our best, you know that.”

“I know.” Leaning back in the chair, she put a hand on her stomach. “I’m just scared, you know? The months leading up to the birth don’t scare me, but the birth and everything after? Holy hell, Dean. I’m pregnant.”

“Yeah, you are.”

Getting up, Jo snatched one of the maps from the stacks and opened it up. She changed the subject and though Dean resisted the segue, she persisted until he followed her conversational lead.

~~~~~~~~~~

Risa picked up the binder and stared at it. She’d been tripping over it for days now. Dean had said he was going to give it back to Chuck and promptly forgotten to do that. She hefted it. It was half filled with pages. Sighing, she debated opening it and reading. During their marriage, she’d seen Dean hunker down with a book before, but not with the concentration he gave Chuck’s writing. It made her wonder what was on those pages that he’d hole up during meals and eat alone just to keep reading. It had to be something fascinating.

Tapping the cover with one finger, she bit her lower lip.

While she was curious about Chuck’s writing, despite Dean’s attempts to convey how awful it was, it wouldn’t be right to simply read it. Chuck had given it to Dean to read, not her.

She slid her fingers along the edge of the binder, grasping it between thumb and forefinger. It’d be so easy to sneak a peek. No one would know. It wouldn’t be hurting anyone to read a little.

There was a knock on the door and she smiled to herself, tucking the binder in the crook of her arm. Stupid. Risa shook her head. She’d just take it to Chuck herself and forget about her stupid impulse to read it without his permission. Risa opened the door, surprised to see Chuck there. “Chuck. I was just coming to find you.”

“Risa, hi. Find me? Why?” He gulped and she’d swear she saw fear in his eyes.

“Well, this is yours, right?” She held out the binder. “Dean’s left it on the floor for days, claiming he’s going to get it back to you and if it’s yours --”

“Did you read it,” he asked, voice filled with dread that she didn’t quite understand.

“No. Do you want me to?”

“No!” He snatched it from her. “I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. None of it’s really polished and I only wanted Dean’s opinion on the…the plot…direction….” He shrugged. “You didn’t read any of it?”

“Not one page,” she told him, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorjamb. He had the strangest relieved expression on his face. “Surely it wouldn’t be the end of the world if I had, excuse the choice of expression.”

“Not the end, no, I just…. It makes me uncomfortable for most people to read my work these days.”

“These days?” She tilted her head a fraction, eyes narrowing. “Chuck, did you have a bad experience with trying to get published or something? I’ve heard it can be brutal.”

“Something like that. A very bad experience.” He held up the binder. “Thank you, Risa, for not reading it and for giving it back to me. I’m surprised. Most people would have read it.”

“I’m not most people.”

He hugged the binder to his chest. “No, you’re not.”

She watched him go, then shook her head. What a strange man he was.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Castiel set his mind upon a course of action, he began immediate maneuvers to implement that course. He’d made up his mind that he wanted Jo closer. Overnights weren’t enough for him anymore. He wanted her there every day, all day, and assumed she wanted him in a similar way. She never behaved differently.

“I want you to move in here with me,” he told her, then repeated it when she stared at him blankly.

“What? Why?”

“Because we’re having a baby,” he said slowly. Wasn’t it obvious? He’d thought it was obvious. “Because I want to have you all to myself every day. Because I enjoy your company. Shall I list more reasons?”

“I have a cabin.”

“Mine is bigger, and I want to experience the baby with you.”

“Why?” He heard a trace of nervousness in her voice.

Castiel crossed his arms. This wasn’t going the way he’d thought it would. He’d thought she’d agree and that would be that. He’d assumed they’d spend the afternoon finding places to put her things alongside his, an action he’d looked forward to doing with her. “How often will I father a child? This could be my only experience with it and I’d like to go through every part of the process with you.”

Her brows rose. “Oh.”

“Oh. That’s your answer? Wonderful. That’s really fantastic, Jo. The father of your child wants to be there with you through every part of it and you say ‘oh’.”

“There’s no need to be snippy. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Cas, I just don’t see why I need to move in when I have a perfectly good cabin.”

“How else will I experience the little things unless I’m there with you?”

“So it’s all about you?”

He refrained from rolling his eyes. Was she actively trying to start a fight? “That came out wrong. No, it’s not all about me. I meant that there are benefits for you here. A bigger bed with more room to stretch out. A bathroom. The benefits of a close bathroom should be apparent to you already. Not to mention the fact that if I’m not staying over in your cabin, you’re staying over here. Wouldn’t it be easier to be both in one place? No dash to get clean clothes in the morning or deciding which cabin to stay at.”

“I need to think about it.”

“Am I dreaming this all? Jo, what’s to think about?”

“It’s a big step, Castiel.”

“It’s one I want to take with you and having a baby isn’t a big step?” Was that panic in her eyes? “I don’t understand.” He hated how helpless those words sounded when he said them.

“Think about it. Moving in means we see each other every day, all day.”

Which they did already. Why was she being difficult? He didn’t see that it was such a big step from where they were currently at in their relationship. “Your point?”

“It means sharing drawers.” She glanced around. “Okay, sharing trunks, and a bathroom, and…and…”

“We do that already.”

Now she crossed her arms. “I can’t move in with you, not officially and not all the time.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Discomfort was heavy upon her face and posture.

“Because isn’t a reason. Tell me. I think I deserve to hear your reason.”

“Because I can’t live with a man I’m not married to, okay?” She looked all around the cabin, everywhere except at him, like the admission embarrassed her.

The pronouncement stunned him and the first words he could think of, and actually said, were probably not the best ones. “That has to be one of the most messed up things I’ve heard come out of your mouth and I’ve heard a few in the past couple months. You’ll have sex with me, but living together is wrong?”

Jo’s discomfort slipped into anger and she glared at him. “I do have some morals! They might not make sense, but they’re there and my mother made it very clear to me that living with a man was wrong. It’s wrong, it’s bad, it’s not the thing to do. She’d kick my ass if I ever did it and she found out about it. I wouldn’t put it past her to come back from the dead to kick my ass if I move in here.”

“You’re afraid of your dead mother.”

“You met her. She had a scary steak a mile wide. Two miles. Hell, even Dean was afraid of her.”

“You need therapy for that.”

“Gee, thanks. Stone, meet glass house. Like you’re not just as messed up as I am.”

“I don’t have a problem with living with you.”

“I can’t live with you.”

“Fine.” He shrugged. “Then I’ll marry you today. We’ll do that now and have you moved in by dinner.” Castiel said it with impatience, but he didn’t mean it lightly. He understood the significance humans put on the ceremony, whether it was a religious one or one simply of vows to each other, probably more than the humans understood it themselves. He was willing to take vows with her. Why wouldn’t he be?

She laughed and shook her head. “You don’t want to marry me, Cas, you just want me living here so you can selfishly experience this pregnancy.”

Did Risa make Dean this mad sometimes? He knew she once had, but did she still? He could feel the anger inside him. It was a fascinating thing to feel the blood rush in his veins, his heartbeat quickening, and the urge to yell rising. Cas didn’t often give in to anger if he could help it and he squelched the anger now. Becoming mad at her would do no good. Still, his voice came out tight and raw with emotion. “What’s wrong with wanting to be with you? I don’t particularly care if we’re married or not, because that ceremony doesn’t mean the same thing to me as it does most humans. I want to be with you, Jo. Today, tomorrow, every day. If it takes marrying you to do that, then how is that not wanting to marry you?”

“It’s not,” she insisted. “You don’t understand. Marriage is a commitment.”

“I’m committed, in case you hadn’t noticed, and marriage is a human thing. Angels don’t marry.”

“I know you’re committed. As far as marriage goes, you’re not an angel anymore Cas. You haven’t been one in a very long time now. Marriage, it’s a ‘death do we part’ commitment. You don’t make it unless you’re willing to do that and work to keeping the relationship going. You don’t go around getting married unless you’re serious.”

“How am I not committed to that extent? How am I not serious? Can you give me an example of how I’m not committed?” This was going to be a circular argument, he saw. The more he insisted he was committed, the more she would insist he wasn’t. Round and round they’d go unless he could stop it by going to what he thought was the true heart of it. “Or maybe the real issue isn’t me, but you.”

“Me?” She took a step back.

“Yes, you. I think the real issue here is you, not me. You’re scared to take that step, to live here with me, and you’re trying to make it less scary in your mind, only this time it’s not working. See before, with sex, I could just overrule you in play and make it okay in your mind to do the very act you wanted to do. It was enough to help you get over your fear and make you face it. This time though, the options, both living here and marriage, are way too scary for you.”

“I’m not scared,” Jo insisted. Vulnerability was growing in her eyes.

He rested his hands on his hips. “What do you want here, Jo? Do you want to live here with me?”

Her lips parted, no sound emerging.

“Because I think you do. I think you want to, just like you wanted to have sex, and it scares you, so you latched on to Ellen’s threat in an attempt to make it okay. The problem emerged then when my willingness to marry you frightened you as badly as simply moving in. How am I doing? Am I warm? Hot? Smoking?”

Stepping to her, he leaned down to look her directly in the eyes, so close their lips nearly touched as he spoke. “You’re scared to death. You’ve hit a responsibility plateau and the only way to get off it is to jump one way or the other. I can’t help you with this one, Jo. I can’t decide it for you. I can’t help you play your way through it. It’s your decision and yours alone. You go think about it and let me know which one will sit right and will make you feel better in your mind.” He stood tall once more.

She looked like she was going to cry and he steeled himself for it, knowing that if she started crying, he’d cave. He’d agree to help her and they’d get nowhere. Castiel turned his back to her, pretending to leaf through the baby book again. A moment later, he heard the sound of her footsteps as she ran from the cabin.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo Harvelle was tons of stubborn. Rick didn’t bother pretending he wasn’t able to hear the argument coming from Castiel’s cabin. The two were shouting at each other. The only reason they weren’t garnering a crowd for their argument was that they’d timed it for the lunch hour. Most people were at the dining hall. He frowned while he caned the chair he had propped up, watching Jo flee the cabin and run to her own.

She wasn’t seeing what was in front of her, whether out of fear or that stubbornness she had an abundance of. Probably both.

Not that he advocated butting into other people’s lives. He didn’t. Jo was different, though. She was one of the few people he’d grown to give a damn about. He’d had enough time with her and Ellen to see how Ellen handled her and to learn a few things on his own about what took the wind from Jo’s sails when she was in a full out snit over something.

Rick made a few plans of his own and by the time he was done with the chair, he knew exactly what he was going to do about Jo’s stubbornness.

~~~~~~~~~~

The points that Castiel had made were good ones. Jo sat on her bed with her arms about her bent knees and thought about everything that had been said. She hated to admit that he was right. She was messed up and she was a regular ball of fear these days. Fear of giving birth, fear of living with him.

I’m nutty as a fruitcake, she told herself. Most women would kill to have a guy behave like he is and what do I do? I run away.

What she’d told him had been true. Ellen had sworn she’d rise from the dead if necessary and kick her ass if Jo ever lived with a man without being married to him. She wasn’t entirely sure it wouldn’t happen. She’d seen stranger things and Ellen Harvelle had seemed to know everything. Jo still didn’t know how Ellen had known some things.

But it wasn’t likely Jo would get her butt kicked by a ghost. Her mother was dead and had shown no sign of having hung around. She wasn’t coming back and Jo moving her things into Castiel’s cabin shouldn’t be a big deal. She already spent most of her time there, anyway. Or he spent the hours she wasn’t there here with her.

“What do I want,” she whispered.

She wanted to be with him. Only him. She wanted him to have this experience with her, that same thing he wanted, and while she wasn’t sure she wanted a marriage like Dean and Risa had, she thought she could handle a few words spoken just between herself and Castiel.

Jo let out a disgusted snort. “Cas is right and I’m being stupid.”

The door to her cabin jerked open, Rick strolling inside like she wasn’t even there.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” she demanded, pointing a finger at the door. “Not your cabin, Rick! Get out!”

He surveyed the room with a frown. “Right here, I think,” he muttered, motioning to the only long wall that was free of furniture, and opening the door. “Bring it on in, guys. It’s going to be a tight fit, but I think we can do it.”

Jo sat with mouth open as he had a table and a crib brought in. Where did he find a crib? “Rick.” She moved up onto her knees. “What are you doing?”

“Making a point that sorely needs made.”

“And that would be what? How much it’s possible to cram into one of these cabins?”

“Something like that.” He waited until the men left, then crossed his arms. “One, you don’t have room here for yourself and a baby.”

“Geez, Rick! Women have raised babies in tents or less.”

“Because they needed to, not because some of them especially wanted to. You don’t need to.”

“You’re a know-it-all jerk.”

“I’m a know-it-all jerk who had a wife and two kids once. I’ll admit you probably could do it in this cabin. You’re a stubborn woman and you’d do it to prove me and others wrong, but why do it at all? Point two, you’ve got a man in this camp who loves you and wants to step up and take responsibility. He wants to accept the consequences, Jo. Wants to. Do you have any idea how rare that is? He wants you there, to go through it all with you, and you’re nuts to refuse. Either that or you’re too damn stubborn to see what’s both good for you and right in front of your pretty little nose.” He put a hand on the crib rail. “Think good and long before you tell him no.”

“I wasn’t telling him no, Rick.”

“Sure sounded that way to me, waffling over moving in and marrying him. Were you listening to yourself, Jo? To him? He’d marry you this afternoon, right now if you told him that’s what you want and don’t give me any crap about him not understanding the commitment. I think he understands it better than you do.”

She actually couldn’t argue that one. “He does, I know.”

“You know.”

“Yes. Could you please leave? You’ve had your say, not that it’s any of your concern what Cas and I do or don’t do.”

Rick moved to the door and stopped, looking back at her. “Look, Jo, I care about you. I want you happy and watching you with him…. You’re the happiest I’ve ever seen you. In times like these, we need to hold on all the tighter to those moments and those people who make those moments with us.”

She watched him leave. In a way, this display he’d made was sweet. Annoying, but sweet.

The cabin was absurdly packed with the addition of the table and crib. When Jo stood, she could take two steps and be at the crib or the table and she couldn’t reach the pegs on the wall at all. Moving to the door, she turned and stared at the room. After a moment, she reached for her bag and began putting her clothes into it, not letting herself dwell on the fact that she’d made her decision. If she thought about it, she’d keep thinking and she’d never do it.

They’d come back later for the rest of her things. There weren’t many to come back for.

Her stomach churned as she lifted the bag up, putting the strap onto her shoulder. Peering outside her door, she noted no one in the immediate vicinity and slipped from the cabin. She’d prefer it if no one witnessed her nervous short trek to Castiel’s cabin or her frightened hesitation right outside on his porch.

There’s nothing to be scared of, she told herself. I love him.

Jo only stopped three times before taking a deep breath and practically barreling through the beads that made up his door. Castiel was on the couch, a book in hand. When he saw her, he turned down the page, closed the book and set it aside. She dropped her bag to the floor and shoved her hands in her jacket pockets, balling them into fists.

“You have no idea how hard my heart is beating right now,” she told him. Her knees felt weak and the fists in her pockets shook.

He stood, moving to her, his hands grasping her arms and sliding down them to work her hands from her pockets. Jo let him take her hands in his and twine their fingers. “Probably as hard as mine was beating when I said I wanted you to move in. Out of control --”

“Racing --”

“So fast and hard that it feels --”

“Like it’s going to explode.”

Leaning down, he kissed her, a brief caress. “You decided.”

“I did.”

He cocked a brow. “Still scary?”

“I feel like I’m going to pass out.” Or throw up. Or both. Maybe not in that order.

“Deep breaths, not shallow ones.” He breathed with her, several long, slow breathes, then squeezed her hands. “There you go. What did you decide?”

Jo swallowed, hoping to wet her suddenly dry mouth. It didn’t work. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” she blurted out, “whether that’s a week, a hundred weeks or decades.”

One hand loosed from hers and raised, his fingers stroking across her brow and down the side of her face. His gaze probed hers. Slowly, he blinked. “Are you making a vow to me?”

“Yes. Only you, until death parts us.”

Pleasure and joy lit his eyes. “I will spend the rest of my life with you, until death parts us. Nothing is going to come between us.”

This time, it was Jo who kissed him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Claire Novak hadn’t expected to live long after her mother died, not with a demon after her, but she’d lucked into meeting a group of people that had helped her and ultimately destroyed the demon. Then all Claire had to worry about, for the most part, were the human menaces. The group had helped her learn how to survive and it had been over protests that Claire had left them.

She’d had a quest to fulfill, a task she’d put herself upon and staying with them hadn’t brought her close to fulfilling it.

She made her way down one dusty road and let herself enjoy the scenery as she walked. It wasn’t often she let herself relax enough to look at the scenery. Relaxing was dangerous, but she liked this area. It was blessedly free of the constant threat of Croats. Refreshingly free. She could easily grow to like this area, hoping she would be able to rest here awhile. It would be nice to have rest.

Keep going, Claire. You’re nearly there. A little while longer of walking.

The voice had been with her since she’d left the group, protecting her from all manner of evil. She’d been able to avoid Croats, scavengers, soldiers and the various supernatural beings on the loose.

Claire missed her mother. She missed her father.

And she was desperate to finally end her search for the angel Castiel.