Title: Fields of Paper Flowers

Chapter: 4

~~~~~~~~~~

Another evening, another dinner he expected her to talk through. Jo closed the dessert menu she’d been reading to pass time and glanced around the restaurant. It was mostly empty. It wouldn’t surprise her to discover that the places he took her to were run by demons now and not people -- running them just for him. The Croatoan Virus was definitely making it’s way across the country. She didn’t think it’d take too much longer before the major cities were taken, including Chicago where he kept her. Had to be soon. A few more weeks, maybe a month or two at most. Every day she saw more fires burning from her window, watched looters in the street below. She heard gunfire and the screams of people in the streets. It seemed impossible to her that it wouldn’t be soon.

The measures the government had taken to contain the virus had failed. It spread no matter what they did.

She glanced at Lucifer, quickly turning her attention elsewhere upon noting that he was studying her. Jo tucked her hair behind her ears. “You’re staring.”

“Is that bothering you?” A polite query as he leaned forward to rest his forearms on the table, hands clasping.

Jo rolled her eyes.

“So yes then?”

She was searching for a reply when their server came through the door from the kitchen, tray in hand. To her surprise, she brought two plates filled with food instead of one. Two identical plates were set onto the table. Lucifer directed a gracious smile at their server, who flushed and smiled herself before walking away. Charming, Jo thought. He could be charming when he wanted.

“You’re eating?” Jo watched him, a little confused. He never ate when they went to dinner, preferring to sip on water, wine, or some other beverage and watch her. The one thing she could count on was that he would stare at her, like he had tonight already. At times, his scrutiny bordered on ridiculous and she had the odd sensation that he studied her in order to understand something about her that continued to elude him.

“You always order steak in some form or another whenever I take you out. I’m curious as to the appeal for you.”

“Isn’t meat what animals are supposed to eat?” She’d once brought up that if she was an animal like he ascertained, his having sex with her was bestiality. In response, he’d raised his brows and given her an asthma attack that lasted for nearly an hour, letting her gasp for breath until it pleased him to stop it. Then, he’d conceded that she had something of a point in that he was inhabiting Sam’s body, however if humans were animals, Sam was too. That meant it was simply two animals having a go at each other, not bestiality. The fact that he was inhabiting Sam’s body didn’t count. Jo had decided not to argue any further with him on it. She liked breathing, thank you very much.

His glance raised from the plate. “You don’t eat it for that reason.”

“You’re right.” She reached for her silverware. “I only order steak because it’s generally the most expensive thing on the menu, especially now since cows are becoming rare from the disease scares. If chicken or fish was more expensive, I’d get that instead. You said to get what I want, so I am.” It was frighteningly easy to spend the money on that card he’d given her. Jo still wasn’t sure if it was real or if he somehow made all the stores think it was. It wasn’t like she was flashing cash around to purchase items. That card was the only currency she had. Well, until there was no one to run the stores and she could take what she wanted.

“How childish. Attempting to ‘stick it’ to me. Yet how amusing as well.”

She cut her steak into small bites, poured steak sauce over them with a liberal hand, then mashed butter and sour cream into her potato, observing him do the same minus the steak sauce. Was he really going to eat?

Spearing a bite, he lifted it, studied it, and chewed on it for what seemed like forever, a frown on his lips. “You like this texture and flavor?”

“Try it with the sauce.” Jo handed it across the table to him. “Haven’t you eaten anything before right now? Ever? In thousands of years?”

“No.” The second bite he also chewed a long while. “Steak appeals to this body. Sam liked steak.”

“Most guys do. You mean you don’t need to eat anything at all to keep Sam…that body running?”

“No. I drink liquids because I wish to, but it’s not necessary for me to eat or drink. I am a supernatural being, Jo.”

Jo was silent a moment, taking a drink from her beer. “So, does Sam….”

“Does he what?”

“Does he ever get to look out his own eyes anymore? Really look, like if you left his body.”

He cut more of his steak, then stared at her. “Sam’s not really home enough if I were to leave. He’s…disconnected from his body. That part of him that had access to the controls of his body has no access anymore. He’d no longer know what he was seeing, nor could he process the images in any way that made sense. When I let him see you, he sees because I see and allow him to see through my control.”

She pushed her own steak bites about her plate. “Did he know that would happen to him?”

“He didn’t care. When I found him, he was ready to hand over the reigns to me. Too much guilt and emotional pain for him to endure. He was in a very low place --”

“And you took advantage,” she interrupted.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

His is attention dipped down her and Jo glanced down to see what he was looking at. A good portion of her cleavage, she saw, all shoved up and in as far as it could go courtesy of Victoria’s Secret. Tugging the bodice of her dress back up a fraction, she cleared her throat. He was getting better at choosing dresses she was comfortable in, yet sometimes, like this one, he’d choose something she rather thought a hooker would wear. “He’s trapped in there with you. What kind of life is that?”

“He no longer wished to use his body. I don’t believe he’d many thoughts on quality of life at that point. He didn’t want it and I did. Why should it have gone to waste? One of us should make use of it.”

“How much of that state he was in was your doing?”

“How many questions are going to come flying out of your mouth?”

She shrugged a brow and ate half of her steak and a bite of potato before responding. “You wanted conversation. I’m conversing.”

“If I want a whore, you going to fulfill that as well?”

Jo bared her teeth in a smile without mirth. “Isn’t that what I already am and do?”

“You’re mouthy is what you are.”

“Like you don’t like that?”

“I do like it, but don’t push me.” A steely warning.

She nodded, gaze falling from his. So civilized. He always tried to be civilized, reminding her incessantly that he was really an angel and so far above her in the order of creation that she was like dirt beneath the dirt under his feet. Sometimes they’d be talking and the way he spoke was pure Sam. In those moments, she could forget her situation. It didn’t happen much, but it did occasionally happen.

“I tried my mom’s phone again.”

He shoved his plate aside. “And?”

“Voicemail. I want to talk to her. I miss her. Why won’t she call me back?” It still worked, voicemail picking up, so the bill was being paid. But why had Dean called that day on Ellen’s phone and not his own? That had been nagging at her for nearly a month now.

Now, he shook his head. “We talked about this, Jo. She knows you’re safe and not hunting. You’re living the life she always wanted for you: financial security and personal safety from chaos. You think she’d jeopardize that by contacting you? Doing so could get you back out there right where she never wanted you to begin with. She wants you safe. You know that. Not to mention that talk you and I had about hunting.”

“I just want to hear her voice. That’s all.”

“She’s safe from the infected, Jo.”

“Can’t I see her for like, a minute? You could do that. I know you could. Please. You never said I couldn’t see her when we made that deal.”

“I’m saying it now. No.”

The finality in the word hurt. A small part of her was coming to the realization that he’d lied to her about her mom, but most of Jo still accepted his fiction for her. It was easier than acknowledging she’d probably damned herself for nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~

The cell company must have been hit with the virus because no one answered Dean’s call. He was pretty sure Jo had GPS turned on on her phone. However, without a tech on the other end helping him out, he couldn’t find her that way. Damn.

“I have nothing,” Cas told him. For an hour he’d been trying to use powers that just weren’t there anymore.

“That makes two of us. Any ideas, Bobby?”

Bobby eyed him a moment. “You really want to run after Jo after what Lucifer did to her mama?”

“Are you suggesting I leave her wherever she is?” He shook his head. “I told her I’d come get her. I promised her.”

“I’m not suggesting leaving her, but we can’t get her without a location, Dean.”

“I know that.” He was going to have to leave her there, wasn’t he? At least until he had a location. Dean turned, pressing his hands against the wall and bowed his head, trying to reign in that helpless sensation working through him. He despised that sensation of free-falling with no control over the circumstances surrounding him. He’d failed Sam and Ellen. He wasn’t about to fail Jo as well. There had to be a way to do something.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo woke to Lucifer in bed with her. She’d come to understand that he didn’t really want sex from her. It was more of a puppet on a string thing, showing her how inferior she was. Half asleep, she slid her flannel pajamas off. They were perfect for the cooler October nights by herself, but not for his visits. If she’d known he’d show up, she would have worn one of those stupid little pointless lacy lingerie pieces that didn’t have to be removed for easy and total access.

This time, he didn’t want her compliance. He wanted her screams and once Jo started she discovered it was hard to stop, a part of her teetering on that dangerous edge of hysteria. He let her scream herself hoarse as he pounded fast and hard into her, bruising those delicate tissues over and over, making her bleed.

When her screams had quieted and he lay beside her, he remarked, “You humans have these odd compulsions for food and sex.”

Is that what using her was? An odd compulsion he was trying to figure out? Her lower lip quivered. “How’s that whole human body thing working out for you,” she spat, surprised by the extent of the malice in her own voice.

“How’s the whole Lucifer’s whore thing working out for you,” he countered with a bored air.

Jo closed her eyes. “If you hate humans so much, and everything we are and do, then why me? Why make that deal, seal it that way, and keep coming back?” It was the question she kept returning to over and over. Why her? He’d told her she was special, that it could only have been her, but why? What was it that made her that one he’d wanted?

“You have to ask, Jo?”

She rolled onto her side away from him, hoping he’d heal her soon of the damage he’d just inflicted and knowing that most likely he’d let her experience it until morning. It wouldn’t be the first time. He enjoyed letting her stew in the pains he caused, whether physical or emotional. Jo had the uncomfortable idea that he was training her in some way for an unknown task.

His warmth was against her back. “Because playing the whore demeans you, hurts and humiliates you. Every time I visit you it breaks a piece of your emotional strength away. Slow erosion. It makes you feel every bit as worthless as you are. Your worth to me is only as an example of how low you humans will sink yourselves. You’ve gone about as far as one can go.” His fingers stroked her arm with a light, caressing touch. “Let’s recap. You made a rash deal to save your mother and Dean Winchester without real proof they were in danger. You agreed to sell your body and soul to me -- not a lowly demon, but a powerful angel you firmly believe is absolute blackest evil. The bill of sale also included immunity from the disease and invisibility to the infected parties. And you accepted whatever I want to do to you for all of eternity. How eager you were to toss aside any lingering bits of virtue! God gave you that body, that soul, lovingly crafted them, and you sold them to me.”

A kiss was placed on her shoulder.

“As for why I come back… I do so because it was part of our deal, remember? Companionship specified as conversation, dinner, sex. I am bound by the terms the same as you. However, making it pleasurable for you at times feeds into your self-loathing which continues to prove your inferiority. Everything you dislike is my playground.”

Amusement colored his voice, though she knew if she were to look at him, she’d see nothing of it on his face or hint in his eyes. Perhaps a tiny smirk on his lips and nothing more. That time of pretending to be Sam, of trying out his identity to get close to those closest to him in some way was done. He was Lucifer now.

“You did ask, Jo. I told you I wouldn’t lie to you and I didn’t.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Time to wake, Sam.

Lucifer’s command was loud and Sam came into consciousness, falling into a scene that wasn’t real. With a touch, Lucifer had invaded Jo’s dreams, manipulating the scene into what he wanted to show her. It wasn’t enough to control her every waking moment. Now, he would delve into her subconscious.

Sam watched as the room changed, became less opulent, more working class. He blinked. The edges of his vision were still a little out of focus, but the scene itself was familiar. This room was one of the nicer motel rooms he’d been in over the years. Slowly, details were added to give it a homey touch. Candles, cell phones on the dresser, clothes strewn about, a clothes basket, books…all the sorts of things a couple collected in their bedroom. This was one of the scenes in his recurring fantasy, right down to the color of the sheets and the throw pillow on the chair in the corner. In his fantasy, Sam had tried to decorate the rooms with an eye to what a woman might pick out, aided by his memories of some of Jess’s favorite accessories.

He wanted to protest, embarrassed by this further invasion of himself, yet any protest he made would be ineffectual. Lucifer would do whatever he wanted regardless.

Do you think Jo would like to share your fantasy for the two of you? I’ll have to change a few details here and there, of course. Make it real.

In the dream, Jo woke…and Sam’s fantasy was laid out before her in all of it’s intricate detail.

~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t feel like she’d woken. There was no weight sensation to her body and yet she had to be awake, right? Jo couldn’t recall ever having a dream that kept such clarity. Point A to point B and so on. Her usual dreams skipped around and didn’t make much sense when she woke. This couldn’t be a dream.

Or could it?

Sam stood by the bed, watching her. He slipped his hands into his jeans pockets. “Well? Are we shopping or not?” He looked freshly showered, hair damp.

“Shopping?” She sat, holding the sheet to her naked body. The room was average in size, decorated in a cut above motel chic. Nice and not lavish. This was a comfortable room she could see herself spending time in.

His brows rose. “Your idea, Jo. Something about a family holiday with Dean, Lisa, Ben, Bobby and Ellen?”

Who the heck were Lisa and Ben, she wondered, frowning. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“I’m not surprised,” he said, sitting on the bedside and reaching out a hand. His fingers touched her brow, a quick gentle brush. “You said it after getting this lovely goose egg on your forehead. Probably a concussion. I should keep a close eye on you today, maybe not go anywhere at all. In fact, maybe I should just join you under those covers.” He shrugged a brow and leaned in to kiss her.

She leaned away. “Sam?”

“I don’t get a good morning kiss?”

She could smell coffee and cinnamon rolls through the door on her left. Her favorite breakfast. Those scents mingled with the pleasant smell of his aftershave and the mint of toothpaste. “I don’t remember anything at all.”

His eyes narrowed a little, hand caressing along her bare arm. “Quick. Name, date of birth…” a slow playful grin curved his lips, “…bra size.”

“Funny. No, I mean I don’t remember…” A visual tour of the room revealed a very lived in, obviously cohabitated bedroom. Clothes in a basket and on the floor, what looked like her perfume bottle on the dresser right next to a cell phone plugged into a charger. A couple books on the table on the other side of the bed, and more. The next word was a question. “Us?”

Sam watched her a moment before sitting back and releasing her. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s quite a lot not to remember, Jo.”

“Humor me?”

“Maybe I should get you to a hospital and get that bump looked at,” he replied, yet he didn’t get up from the bed. Instead, he moved up beside her and laid down. “Where should I begin?”

“The beginning.”

With a slow nod, he began to take her through their life.

~~~~~~~~~~

The story Lucifer wove for her was convincing, far more so than the brief Lucifer-free history Sam had envisioned for them. Lucifer told her that Dean had packed her back to Ellen not long after Jo had arrived in Philadelphia; that Jo had fought every step of the way and sworn not to forgive Dean for that. Then he told her that he’d fought with Dean over the matter and gone with her, staying in Nebraska for a short while before returning to help Dean. From there, the storyline of their life was simple.

Azazel was defeated. There was no possession by Meg, no desperate crossroads deal, and the Roadhouse was never destroyed. Angels didn’t come to play. Sam kept in touch with her and everything went so logically in the story that it could be true.

Except it wasn’t, and soon Jo was going to have to wake up.

Sam watched her think about it and wondered what was going to happen when she woke to discover she’d dreamt this happy future before her. What was the angel hoping to accomplish with the story? His thoughts were silent on that matter, Sam deciding Lucifer must have decided his goals for it before waking Sam.

He watched himself with Jo, going about day-to-day things. Shopping, lunch out, watching a movie, cooking dinner. Her dream self relaxed, gaining vitality as the ‘day’ went by until she was the flirtatious Jo he’d first met. She pressed against his dream self, willingly shedding her clothes.

Abruptly, his vision made a weird shift. While he could still see her dream self, he saw her real self as well, like twin movie screens side by side. When his dream self touched her, his real self did too. A double violation. All he could do was watch.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s arm was warm about her and Jo snuggled closer, sliding her hand across his chest to embrace him tighter. The time they’d spent together just now had made some of the horror of that Lucifer thing go away.

Bad dream, she thought drowsily. The whole deal with Lucifer had been a bad dream.

Sliding her foot along his calf, she pressed a kiss to his chest, rubbing her cheek against his skin. Jo wanted nothing more than to stay in bed with him all day, letting that nightmare slip into oblivion. She sighed, sleep beginning to tug her back under it’s waves.

His hand trailed along her arm, head turning and lips brushing her forehead. “You’ve been holding out on me, Jo.”

Her eyes snapped open, all thoughts of sleep leaving her. The voice was Sam’s, the inflections were not. Raising up, she found Lucifer and not Sam looking at her. Not Sam.

She scrambled up and away, falling backwards off the bed and landing hard. Her heart was a painful pounding in her chest, mouth opening, then closing. No, no, no, please! The urge to laugh was overwhelming, that hysteria always beneath the surface of her now beginning to rise. She clenched her jaw to keep from loosing those mad peals because once she started, she wasn’t going to stop. Jo knew it.

He raised up on one elbow. “Quite the uninhibited creature, aren’t you?”

That future with Sam had been a dream. This? This was her reality. Stark. Horrible.

“All that passion bottled inside of you.”

How long she sat naked on the carpet staring at him she didn’t know. One thought kept circling in her mind: I’ve got to get away from him. Somehow.

~~~~~~~~~~

She wasn’t behaving the way he expected her to.

Sam would have smiled if he could. Jo was confusing Lucifer. He couldn’t figure out what exactly she was doing as she sat there staring at him.

She pulled herself together slowly. He could see the struggle on her face to get herself under control, but she did, lips tightening into a thin line as she stood, her eyes wide. Jo reached for her robe and pulled it on as she went to the door and into the hallway.

Sliding from the bed, Lucifer followed her. “Jo?”

There was no answer. His attention fell to the sway of her hips as she strode into the kitchen. Jo opened the fridge and started moving things around, finally reaching into the back and pulling out a bottle of beer. With the fridge door still open, she opened the bottle and chugged the liquid until it was gone, giving a belch worthy of Dean at his best.

“Want a beer,” she asked, reaching for two more and drawing them out.

“Not especially.”

“Oh come on. Sam might like one after that work you just put him through.”

He took the beer. “Are you certain you want to play games with me, girl?”

Jo circled around the island, set her beer down and rested her arms on the counter. “I’m not playing games. I just wanted a beer or two and thought maybe Sam might like one, too.” A glance down at her hands, pursing her lips. “Because, you know, I was having this dream and it was pretty real. I think he probably would have enjoyed a beer at that moment.”

She had that right. Sam could see them getting up and drinking a couple beers together in the kitchen before heading back to bed.

“Did it feel real?”

“It did, but you know that already. So what, my sleep isn’t even safe from you?”

Sam tasted the beer as Lucifer drank it, greedily sucking in the flavor as though it was an elixir of life. It had been months since he’d tasted anything at all besides the sweat and arousal of Jo’s body. “Your sleep was never safe. You only thought it was. Honestly, Jo, do you think I’ve never been in your dreams before?”

He watched the blood drain from her face, her already pale features becoming more so. His taunt was a lie, but Jo didn’t know that. She tapped the bottle on the counter, then whirled and threw it into the sink. The bottle shattered into pieces, the remaining liquid inside splattering the backsplash and counters. Jo didn’t stop at the bottle. She threw the pans from the hanging rack next, heavy pans that hit the cabinets with loud thuds. The door on one cabinet cracked, the wood splintering into shards. As for Jo herself, she never made a sound except for her breathing. She kept throwing things until she ended up in the same pose she’d begun in: forearms on the counter, fingers splayed, body half hunched over. Her cheeks were flushed and the kitchen was in shambles.

“Feel better, Jo?”

She flipped her hair over her shoulders and stood straight, licking her lips. “No.”

He finished the beer and set the bottle down. “Clean up your mess.” At last glance, Jo hadn’t moved, still staring after him. Sam felt Lucifer’s dissatisfaction with how the evening had gone, but slipped to sleep before he could ascertain why the angel was displeased.