Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 10

~~~~~~~~~~

“No, he freakin’ didn’t.” Jo parked Gwen’s car scanning the area, hoping the Impala would be there somewhere when she could see that it was gone. Warning bells dinged in her mind.

The car was gone and when they’d left, Dean had been under the hood sulking, refusing to help Jo pack. His form of protest on her going out on a job.

“Bring Jack in for me.” She undid her seatbelt and got out, hurrying into the house. She went from one room to the next, noting that the cooler was gone, as were Dean’s toiletries and bag. “Son of a bitch,” she screamed.

Downstairs, the door slammed and Jack started crying.

Jo went downstairs. Gwen had set the carrier on the table and was working Jack from it. “Gwen, check your bag. Tell me the file is still there.”

She paused. “What --”

“The file, Gwen. Is it still with your stuff?” Jo reached for Jack, finishing the job Gwen had started. He was working himself into an all out fit, continuing the tantrum he’d thrown in the store and seemed to be fighting her as she tried to remove his jacket.

Gwen went into the bedroom, returning in only seconds. Her good mood was gone, a scowl upon her face. “No. It’s gone and my bag’s been tossed.”

“Damn it!” She stomped a foot on the floor.

Jack screamed louder and Jo lifted him against her and stroked a finger along his cheek. “Shhh, baby. Hush, hush.” When he’d calmed somewhat, she handed him to Gwen and found her phone, dialing Dean’s number. “Better be a good explanation.”

As she held him, Gwen tried to calm him down, rocking him, teasing him with his pacifier. He refused to stop crying and Jo wondered if part of it was her own emotions influencing him.

Dean didn’t pick up. The call, and the next, and the next, went to voicemail. Her anger rising, Jo dialed Sam. She felt flushed and chilled at the same time.

Unlike Dean, Sam answered. “Hey, Jo.”

“Put my husband on the phone right now, Sam.”

Beside her, Gwen was still rocking Jack in her arms, speaking soft and low to him, only half paying attention to Jo. One of her hands gently patted his back.

“Yeah, sure. Hold on. Dean --”

The call ended, Jo’s anger turned to ire that bubbled hot and furious. Vaguely, she realized that her cheeks were wet with tears. “How dare he do this,” she whispered. “How dare he make this decision for me?” Her heart hurt, her chest aching. It felt like her mother all over again only worse, because it was Dean.

“Jo?”

“Call Sam? Please?”

From the ensuing conversation on Gwen’s end, it sounded like Sam hadn’t known what Dean was doing, but at the moment, Jo didn’t feel like forgiving either of them.

~~~~~~~~~~

If there was one thing Sam knew about Jo, it was that she put together a good file. Better than good, actually. He flipped pages and read through notes as Dean drove. He’d been surprised Jo and Gwen had given up the case, since Jo had been anticipating working it, but Dean had told him they’d said they could take it. He’d said he was sure it was okay.

Whatever. He was just glad to be doing something. He hated the dry spells and would take what they could get.

“Man, Jo’s good,” he said. Dean grunted. “This file is fantastic. She talked to the owner, posed as an interested potential buyer, got a lot of good detail.” Location and security on the dress. The current owner was apparently afraid someone would steal it. Like they were planning on doing. “Should be an easy pick-up. Go in and nab it before the auction.”

Dean’s phone rang and he took it out, glancing at it and declining the call. When it happened a second time, a tiny suspicion began to scratch at the back of Sam’s mind.

The third time, he cleared his throat. “You want to get that?”

“No.”

“Dean?” His own phone rang. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised to find it was Jo. He handed his phone to Dean at her request.

Dean ended the call and tossed it back to him.

He caught it. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to talk to her.”

“You always want to talk to her.”

“Not today I don’t.”

“Tell me you didn’t do what I’m beginning to think you did.” The second call he received was from Gwen, who made it clear what was really going on. Sam hung up. “That was Gwen.”

“Imagine that.”

“You snaked their case, Dean, and you lied to me about it.”

“Jo’s not ready to go. I don’t care what Doctor Marsha Ames says and what Jo thinks. She’s not ready.”

“You told me Jo gave it to you and Gwen agreed we could have it.”

A guilty frown appeared slowly. “Maybe I did.”

“Maybe? You lied.”

“Okay, I admit, I took the file. Jo’s not --”

“What about Gwen? Not like she just had a baby. You were completely unfair to her on this.”

“She’ll get over it.”

Sam shook his head. “You deal with them when we get back.”

He snorted. “You accepted the story. You’re going to be in as much hot water as me. We’ll both have to deal.”

“Dean.” He was right though, Sam realized with a twinge of guilt. He’d accepted the story Dean had given him because he’d been bored and ready to be out doing something. He hadn’t even questioned it and he should have.

“Like Gwen doesn’t have a dozen other projects lined up. I’ve seen how she works.”

She didn’t have projects though, not anything that’d keep her really busy. None of them had projects. “Yeah, and you’ve also seen how your wife works and you took their case, pissed Jo off, and left her home. Weren’t thinking too clearly, were you? You know very well Jo’s capable of taking Jack to Ellen, any nursing be damned, and heading out after us.”

“Not if I call Ellen first.”

“Turn around.”

Dean didn’t answer, the line of his jaw tense and tight.

“Turn around,” Sam repeated. “We’re only two hours out. We’ll go back and --”

“No.”

“Turn around.”

“No,” he yelled, slamming on the brakes and pulling over onto the side of the road.

When Sam had pushed back from the dashboard, he noticed Dean was carefully trying to keep his emotions in check. The tense jaw was him clenching his teeth, his stare fixed firm upon the road as though if he looked anywhere else, he’d break down.

Dean unclenched his hands from the wheel, rested them flat against it. His hands were shaking. “We’re not going back.” He bit each word out like a single sentence.

“Why not? Do you not get how royally pissed Jo is right now? We go on and --”

“Don’t care.”

But he did care. Sam could see it on his face. He did care that he was hurting Jo by this and was determined to do it anyway. “Yes, you do.”

“She’ll die out here and it’s going to be dad all over again only me as him.”

“It’s a pick-up. Nothing complicated and nothing she hasn’t done a hundred times. She and Gwen could handle this, easy.”

“I’m not ready. She may be, but I’m not.”

That was the crux of it. It wasn’t that Jo wasn’t ready, it was Dean who wasn’t, who couldn’t handle her back out working cases. “You made a unilateral decision. Ellen could tell you just how well that turns out where Jo’s concerned.”

He slid an unfriendly, cold glance Sam’s way. “You trying to be funny?”

“No. It’s the truth. You know this. Think about it Dean. It’s the same thing Ellen did to her, telling her she couldn’t go out. Ellen held on too tight and Jo left. You going to make her mistake all over again? Or are you going to learn from that and give her some room?”

He slowly leaned his head back. When he spoke, it sounded almost like he was trying to talk while choking. “I had a panic attack, Sam. A damn panic attack.”

“You don’t have panic attacks, Dean.”

“I had one. Couldn’t breathe, thought my heart was gonna freakin’ explode. Only thing made it better was taking the file and heading out.”

“We’ve got to go back.”

“No. We get the damn dress and that’s final.”

Two more hours passed.

Gwen wasn’t taking his calls or answering texts now and Sam put his phone away with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. Of course anything that passed between Jo and Dean would bleed out into Sam and Gwen’s own relationship. Living and working together pretty much guaranteed it. What affected one relationship affected the other.

Dean refused to turn around, insisting they had to retrieve the dress, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They were going to bring back the dress and buy time for Dean to come to grips with Jo going back out. While he’d been fine with her hunting before, the addition of Jack seemed to have pushed him over that comfort edge. He was afraid of leaving Jack an orphan.

It was a valid fear and Sam didn’t know if he’d react any differently in Dean’s place. Still, he’d known when he’d married her and when he’d stayed that this day would come. He should have known.

How were they going to deal with that? Sam wasn’t sure what the best way was to go about it. It might need to be a group effort since Dean had a panic attack over it.

Geez, he thought. Panic attacks now. That was going to work out great, Dean getting panic attacks every time Jo went out on a job. He sighed and shifted in the seat, stretching one leg out. “Dean --”

“Don’t you say it, Sam.”

“Did you talk to her about it?”

“I told her.”

“Did you tell her your feelings on it?”

“We had a beautiful romance novel moment where I told her she could die out here and she said she was going out whether I wanted it or not.” He reached into the bag on the seat beside him. “Here. Open the chips.”

Sam opened the bag and wedged it between the gas store bag and the seat back. “Call her. Stop and call her, tell her you had a panic attack.” He opened his bottle of water and took a long drink.

He made a disgusted face at the windshield. “Why should I? Gwen’ll tell her.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean snorted. “Means you tell her everything. You’re practically a hive mind these days.”

Hive mind? “I don’t tell her everything. You tell Jo everything.” He dipped his head in a single nod. “Except about your panic attack, which she needs to know about.”

“Does not.”

“Does too.”

“Does not. It happened once.”

“Does too, and what if it happens again?”

“It won’t.”

“You’re telling her.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Will you quit arguing about it? Pull over.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Dean, will you quit being stubborn and pull over already?”

“I’m not being stubborn, you’re being stubborn.” He cast a sidelong glance at Sam. “Bitch.”

Sam suppressed an amused twitch of his lips. “Jerk.”

Dean relaxed back against the seat at the answering quip. “When we get back,” he told him. “I just…. I need to figure out how.” He ate a few chips. “Besides, we’re both in deep now anyway, too many hours out. Might as well finish it.”

The reasoning was skewed, but Sam got the point. In for a penny, in for a pound.

~~~~~~~~~~

Her emotions rolled in a fast boil. Jo experienced mood swings that were every bit as bad as she’d experienced the week after she’d had Jack. She was tempted to pick something and run, the only thing stopping her being Jack.

Their child.

It would be irresponsible to drop everything and leave him. She could imagine what her mother would say about that. Twice she’d come close, Gwen talking her down both times, finally agreeing to go out in her stead, going back to one property they’d already checked and taking the pictures Dean hadn’t taken.

A few hours after they’d discovered Dean gone, she received a call. Jo listened to the caller and slowly smiled, some of the ire that remained draining away. She hung up.

“What?” Gwen looked over at her. She was feeding Jack and looked like she was enjoying every second of it. Her shoulders were relaxed and there was an air of peace about her. Jo thought Gwen would make a good mother if she and Sam ever had kids. A big ‘if’. “You seem dangerously smug.”

“That’s because I am. Guess who that was?”

“Who?”

“Mary-Louise. Totally pissed because she found out her husband put all the clothing items in this auction. She’s pulled them all and plans to re-list in the original auction in January.”

“And?”

She could feel the satisfaction surging through her veins like a high taking her over. “It’s already packed back up in her vault.”

“Okay then. Give them a call and tell them.” She set the bottle aside and burped Jack. As usual, he did two in a row fairly easily. “There’s a good boy,” she murmured.

Jo shook her head. “No. He wants to make an arbitrary decision for me, then I’ll make one for him. We don’t call, just like what’d happen with a stolen case.”

“They’re gonna waste their time,” she warned, then made a disgusted frown as Jack spit up all across the towel she’d draped across her chest. “I hate it when he does that.” She folded the towel and set it aside. “Hand me a new one?”

“Always a possibility when you steal someone else’s case.” Jo handed her a fresh towel from the stack on the coffee table. “Here.”

She laid it across her chest and maneuvered Jack close again. His head bobbed as he looked at her, then rested his cheek against her. “True, but --”

Jo began to pace. “He’s so worried about me getting hurt. If you and I had gone as planned, we’d be turning around about now and wouldn’t even have been gone ten hours, but he pulled this shit and I’m going to let him deal with the consequences of his stealing.”

“And bust his balls when he gets home.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She shrugged. “Depends on how pissed I still am when they get back. I had a life of my mother doing that to me to keep me safe. I won’t let my husband do the same thing. He knows I can do the job. It’s just his fear talking.”

Her anger began to drain away, replaced with a sadness that stayed with her as she waited for Dean and Sam to return from their fool’s errand.

~~~~~~~~~~

They couldn’t find the dress, or any of the other clothing items listed. After three sweeps of the building, Dean accepted momentary defeat. They’d just have to go to the auction, see who it got sold to and do an intervention somehow.

He mulled it over back in their motel room, hating that it wasn’t going as planned.

“Hey Dean? Do you remember how Aaron met Mia?” Sam put a thumb in the book he’d been reading, marking his place. Must be Neal’s journal in his hands. Both Sam and Gwen had had Aaron on the brain lately.

He tried to recall what had been said on the matter. “She was a victim, part of a job, and he fell for her.” He poured two thumbs of whiskey into a glass for himself, hesitated a second and poured one thumb for Sam in a second glass, setting it before him. “Though knowing what we do now, I question the victim part.”

“She engineered that so she could get close to the Campbells, but listen to this. I’ve been reading Neal’s journals starting around five years before Gwen was born and…I found something on the dress.”

“What’s it got to do with Aaron and Mia?”

“Just listen.” He cleared his throat. “Tracked it to Andra Simmons, 1971, who sold it to Beverly Thomson. Thomson died in a freak car accident not long after wearing the dress and the dress disappeared. Andra Simmons also disappeared. It surfaced again a couple weeks ago. All attempts to retrieve the damn thing have been unsuccessful. It’s once more gone. Viv couldn’t get it.”

“And?” Dean sipped at the liquor. “Who’s Viv?”

“Aaron’s girlfriend.”

“Okay. Get to the point.”

“I’ll skip down. You can read the whole account later.” He flipped a page. “Flighty Viv. God, the bitch. She tells A. she loves him, then leaves him a note and runs off while he’s sleeping. If I ever get my hands around her skinny throat, I’ll throttle her. Tried to console him with that ‘first loves don’t usually last’ rot, but he’s moping around. Plan on joining him when he goes tomorrow. Signs of a ghoul in Minnesota. Young woman he talked to (Mia) terrified. Hope this job will cheer him up. He needs a good damsel in distress to get him back in the game.”

“Sounds like something. So Viv. runs off, clearing the way for Mia.”

“I might be making a leap here, but maybe Mia used the dress to draw her out and killed her, then planted the note. Having been at Mia’s mercy, I think it’s probable. I mean, the Campbells were chasing this dress from it’s first kill and Mia was chasing them.”

“Or maybe she worked a spell to make her leave. Gwen read that journal?” He indicated the book with a wave of his glass.

“She’s working through Patricia’s first.”

“Mmm.” He tried calling Jo, but she didn’t answer. Punishment for him maybe? He noticed Gwen wasn’t answering Sam’s calls either.

Auction day was a mess. They both overslept, their server at the restaurant they went to for breakfast lost their order, and cold sleety rain began to fall. By the time the auction came around, he was antsy, in a bad mood, and they walked in late due to an accident three blocks away. Then to discover that while they were in their best suits, they were still out of place. He scowled down at the booklet. Nothing on this trip was going well.

“Well hello.”

A voice intruded on his thoughts and he looked up.

“I didn’t realize we ran in the same circles.” Denise Atwater looked very different than she had a few months earlier, dressed in red carpet attire as opposed to the casual clothes she’d worn when they’d first met her.

Dean glanced around them, shoving the booklet at Sam, who took it and smoothed it out. “We don’t usually, but when there’s an item we’re interested in, we make an exception.”

Her expression shifted from amusement to concern. “What item?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I know what you deal with, Mr. Winchester. If it’s something I’m interested in, I’ll back down. A brush was enough for my taste.”

Sam opened the auction booklet and held it out. “The flapper dress.”

Her already pale features blanched. “Well then. I’m afraid you’re out of luck. You missed the announcement. It was removed from this auction, along with the rest of the clothing items.”

He bit back a curse.

“Removed?” Sam closed the booklet. “What happened?”

“Rumor is they were included in this auction by mistake, one Mary-Louise corrected.”

“You know her?”

“Not personally. By reputation.”

An elderly woman approached and drew up beside Denise. She was dressed in a conservative suit that still managed to scream ‘money’ far more than some of the flashy dresses the rest of the women were wearing. “Denise dear, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just…Mary-Louise is a fool.”

“Everyone knows that,” she replied in a reasonable tone, “even those who’ve never met her. A fool with money….” She eyed Dean and Sam, approval in her dark eyes as she looked them over. “Introductions, dear. You’re being rude.”

“Aunt Nicki, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. The investigators I mentioned.”

“Aunt,” Dean asked with heavy skepticism as they shook hands.

“It’s an honorary title of sorts. We’re not related. I’m just…part of the local scene at times.” Nicki’s brows rose, her lips turning up a fraction at the corners. “Winchester. Like the gun?”

Her eyes were such a dark brown that Dean felt drawn to her. He stared, committing her features to memory. “Yes.” Had they met before? He thought he’d remember her if they had.

“An unusual name. Are you related to the San Jose Winchesters?”

Sam glanced at him. “You mean Sarah? Built the mystery house?”

Delight flickered in her eyes. “I do mean.”

“I don’t believe there’s a connection,” Sam told her. “She and Oliver had one child who died. They never had any more.”

Nice to see Sam’s well of trivial facts being useful, Dean thought, swirling the liquid about in his glass. It was some kind of punch and didn’t smell remotely alcoholic. He hadn’t taken a single sip.

“There must be somewhere,” she insisted. “It’d make your jobs that much more romantic to claim a connection.”

Romantic? Just what had Denise Atwater told this woman? “Not a romantic life at all,” Dean corrected. “It’s hard, dirty, and dangerous.”

“Romantic by today’s standards I mean. For those who’ve never experienced terror and the consequences, it’s very romantic to picture two attractive men saving the world.” She said ‘saving the world’ like it was a joke.

A blush appeared on Denise’s cheeks, whether embarrassment for Nicki’s words and tone or another emotion. “Did your wife have the baby,” she blurted, a blatant attempt to change the topic, turning to face Dean fully. “You’d said she was about…six months, I believe?”

“She did. A boy.”

“Wonderful.”

“A month early, but he didn’t need to stay. He was bigger than a couple of the full term babies in the nursery.”

“Congratulations.” She cast little glances at Nicki as though begging her to behave.

He reached for his wallet. “Want to see a picture?”

Sam cleared his throat. “Dean.”

He paused, letting his wallet slide back into his pocket. “Another time maybe.”

Nicki quirked a brow. “Refreshing to see a young man show pride in his family. Too many these days don’t treasure what they have.”

Denise recoiled like she’d been slapped and drained her glass. “If you’ll excuse me?” Turning, she stalked away.

“What was that about,” Dean asked.

She tilted her head a fraction. “A situation her money can’t buy her out of and no one can help her but herself. I hear you did a very good job with a problem she had?”

“We did work for her,” he acknowledged with a nod. She’d paid well in the end, too, far more than he or Sam ever would have asked for if they’d thought of asking.

She studied them both a long while. “You’re really John Winchester’s boys?”

The mention of their dad’s name shocked him a little. “Yeah. You knew him?”

“We met a few times. Ran after the same objects.”

The same objects? Cursed objects. Had to be. Was she a hunter then? Strange to think of this elegant woman as a hunter, but it could be true. He saw the same surprise in Sam’s eyes that he knew was in his own. “And you are?”

“I am…curious how good you really are. I’ve heard some stories about you two.”

A man pushed through the crowd and slung an arm about Nicki’s shoulders. He looked ill at ease in his suit, tugging at his neck. “C’mon, Nic. I’ve had enough of this fancy-shmancy shindig. Let’s hit the road.” His dark hair was buzzed close to his scalp, but he had a noticeable bald spot and this was obviously not his sort of crowd. “Don’t know why you wanted to stay after they made that announcement.”

So she was interested in one of the clothing items. The Flapper dress perhaps? It was the only cursed thing Dean was aware of that was supposed to be here. Watching the man, Dean was reminded of his first time trying to fit in at something like this, though it appeared more like this man had no patience with it rather than not having experience.

“I had acquaintances to speak to. Abe, I’m in the middle of a discussion.”

“Well, hurry it up.” His shoulders shifted beneath the jacket and he snatched her glass from her, drinking down the liquid and setting the glass on the nearest flat surface. “There’s a steak at Lonestar with my name on it.”

Nicki glanced at him and back at them. “I apologize for my husband’s uncouth behavior gentleman.”

“Nothing wrong with eyeing a good steak,” Dean said. “I’m a fan of one myself.” He grinned at the older man.

Abe’s lips twitched in what might have been an answering gesture. “Hear that, woman? Steak is where it’s at. Wrap it up. I’m getting the car.”

Dean was mildly surprised when Abe whacked his palm to Nicki’s behind with enough force to make her stumble. Her expression indicated that she thoroughly enjoyed it, too, before she composed herself again.

“Again, I apologize. He hates auctions, but they’re sometimes necessary. You understand.”

“You’re after the dress, aren’t you?”

She smiled. “John was very proud of you two. I remember that.” Her smile faded. “Can you get that dress before I do? How about…losers buy the winner dinner before a ceremonial burning of the cursed thing?”

She already had it, didn’t she? Or was sure she was going to. “And how will we find you for that dinner and burning once we have it?”

Her laugh was loud and delighted. “I like a cocky attitude, Mr. Winchester, and I believe you’ll find me once you really start trying. I’m not hidden. I’m out in the world. There are still people in the life who know me.” Reaching out, Nicki adjusted Sam’s tie, then his. “I must go darlings. Abe is waiting and he gets cranky if I’m not prompt. I look forward to our future meeting.” She patted his cheek. “Bring your wife if you can. We wives need to stick together.” Nicki sashayed towards the door.

Dean drew out his phone, carefully snapping a picture of her when she paused to turn and give them a jaunty wave. “What’s say we follow grandma and grandpa?”

Nicki moved faster than Dean thought a woman her age should move and by the time they managed to reach the lot out back, she and Abe were nowhere in sight. Dean didn’t bother biting back a curse this time. “Damn it!” He continued on in that vein for some time.

Not only were they going back empty handed, they were going back empty handed to Jo after he’d stopped her from going out. The reception they would receive wasn’t going to be a good one.