Title: The Curse of Bittersweet Kisses
Chapter 11

~~~~~~~~~~

Since Darla couldn’t come for six days, Jo passed the time much like she had been. She talked and played cards, watched tv, read, shopped for things none of them needed but that Castiel could expect to see, and thought about Dean. Or rather she thought about her changing relationship with him.

She had a picture of him now, one she’d snapped and printed herself. He had one of her that he’d put in his wallet, ready to pull out and show Castiel if he asked. Jo thought they were as prepared as could be at present. They had the pictures and could answer some of his most probing questions.

At night, while Dean was gone, she’d look at that picture of him and think about how their kisses were ceasing to be fake. Something was stirring in them both and she’d seen her own wariness and desire reflected in his eyes. She’d consider the fact that she didn’t mind when his hands were a little too close to her breasts, nor did she mind being pressed tight to him.

She was falling for him for real and knew it in the way she remembered the scent of his aftershave for hours and how she could trace the lines and curves of his face in the air from memory. The thought of loving him both terrified and excited because there was no way they’d end any better this time than they had previously in Carthage. Becoming emotionally entangled wasn’t a good idea, but what a ride it’d be!

Jo began to dream of Dean Winchester and knew for a certainty that this time, he also dreamed of her. She felt it in the way he touched her now and the way he’d taken to kissing her. It was in how he said her name and the way he looked at her.

Maybe they could take a chance. Maybe they could be just a little reckless together and have something good while it lasted.

She thought those things at night and when she was alone. The rest of the time, she played her role and pretended the course she thought about was already under way to the fullest degree.

One bright spot in those days while Dean and Bobby were gone and they waited for Darla was Sam’s company. Jo enjoyed hearing his stories of the time that had passed between 2009 and the present year. He was more forthcoming than Dean had been, willing to talk about cases and experiences. She wondered if it helped him to discuss them.

She changed position on the couch, drawing her legs up and wrapping her arms about them. It was late. Ellen was in bed and while Jo was tired, she wasn’t ready to end the discussion with Sam. He stopped mid-sentence and turned his head, watching something in the middle of the room. He didn’t seem alarmed, merely sad. “Sam?”

He glanced at her, blinked, and returned his attention to the spot. “Gwen and Christian.”

“You see them?”

“It’s a memory, a little faded now, like ghosts. Rough around the edges.”

“What was happening in it?”

He watched another minute, then turned to face her, arm on the back of the couch. “They were arguing. They argued a lot. Christian thought it was funny to wind her up.”

“What was Gwen like?”

“Opinionated. Stubborn.” He shrugged. “She was good, but made a bad decision following Samuel. Sometimes I wish she’d known enough of what was happening to leave before she got killed. Maybe we should have told her. I think she would’ve listened. It would’ve been nice, you know? To have family out there that wasn’t inclined to stab us in the backs for personal gain.”

“You liked her.” It was easy to interpret that from the way he talked about her.

He smiled. “As much as my soulless self could like anyone. She was the first of them to really try to make me feel welcome after Samuel claimed me as family.” That smile slipped away. “ I didn’t feel anything when she died, Jo. It was almost like watching a stranger get killed.”

He regretted that he hadn’t mourned for her and regretted what he couldn’t change. Did he realize how like Dean that was? “It happened before the wall came down and you had access to everything in your memory?”

“Yeah.”

“I think if you’d remembered the things you do now that you would’ve felt more at that moment.”

“Maybe. My soulless self didn’t have any emotions though. He didn’t even have instinct. Dean said that and he was right.”

She studied him, noted the weariness on his face and the regret in his eyes. It was strange to her how his hallucinations could cause such differing reactions in him. Some of them put him in another world entirely, a world of pain, blood, and torture, while others seemed more like tv shows he was watching play out in thin air. The latter he could view in a detached manner. The former drew him in and tumbled him about. “This one didn’t bother you?”

His laugh was low and tired. “No. Nothing to be bothered about. Just one more argument the two had. Gwen upset because Christian had belittled her in front of Samuel and no on intervened. He got away with it and Gwen…. Gwen kept trying to make a place for herself in a group of men not inclined to take her seriously.”

“I totally get that. Don’t imagine she had it any easier than I did breaking into it, even from a family of hunters.”

“No, but you had Ellen. That’s a lot more than she had right there.”

It was true. Once Ellen had understood that there was no changing Jo’s mind, she’d become determined to join her and make sure she had the chance to learn, practice, and hone her skills. Through the many contacts she’d made over the years at the Roadhouse, Ellen had given Jo the opening into that hunting world Jo had been unable to make on her own. She’d given Jo a fighting chance to survive. “My mother is a force of nature.”

“Amen to that.”

Jo glanced at the clock. “I should get to bed. Good night, Sam.”

“Good night, Jo.”

She slept well and, as she and Sam worked on doing the dishes after lunch the next day, she filled him in on her psychic friend.

“Her name’s Darla Starlight. I met her while I was on my own.” At Sam’s amused expression, Jo nodded. “Yes, it’s a stage name. She was a Vegas showgirl back in the day. Had a pretty spectacular accident on stage that jump started her abilities.” She held up a finger as he began to grin. “Don’t say it. Just because Dean isn’t here doesn’t mean you need to say whatever he’d say.”

“I wasn’t,” he protested, but the tiny curl of a grin at his lips belied that protest. He began putting the dishes away.

“You were.” There was the tap of a horn from outside. “That’s her. Send mom out for me when she comes down?”

“Sure. I’ll come out, too. Kinda want to meet her.”

Jo stepped outside as Darla exited the car. She hadn’t changed much. A little older and maybe some padding along the hips that made her hourglass figure more pronounced. Her blond hair was curled in the sort of big ‘do common in the Eighties and she wore a suit that emphasized her figure. Darla’s welcoming smile faded as Jo approached and she found herself on the receiving end of a long, hard hug.

Darla pulled back, hands cupping Jo’s face. “Oh, darlin’. How long were you dead?”

“You can see that?” It threw her for a moment. She hadn’t expected Darla to be able to see that. She’d expected Darla to see a change in her aura or something like that, not that she’d been dead.

“It’s all over you. Death had you in his hands.” Her bright blue gaze traveled down Jo and back up. She nodded with certainty. “You were pronounced. How many minutes passed before you revived?”

“Long story.” One Darla might not believe.

“I’ve never seen it this certain, Jo.” She touched Jo’s hair and released her. “You’re marked by it. I see it on a lot of people. Usually it’s like a thin old scar, a little pink, but yours is dark, like a raw fresh wound. You’re deeply marked and you came back recently.”

“A couple months ago. There didn’t seem any chance in hell I’d come back from it. I was gone, like no return, Darla, but I did come back.”

“Usually that means there’s a purpose in this life for you. You’re here because you need to be.” She leaned against her car.

“You mean divine intervention?” It had been Castiel who’d raised her and Ellen both, Cas who claimed to be the divine.

“I mean when people are brought back from such certain deaths, they’re important somehow. Might not be important by the standards of the world, but important nonetheless. Maybe it’s divine, maybe it’s just Fate. It’s what I’ve seen.” She crossed her arms. “It’ll stay with you. The mark never fades. You never forget the experience or, at least, I’ve never met anyone who has. You’ll never forget your death. Some are tortured by it, others not so much. Some find life all the sweeter. Carpe diem and so on.”

Ellen came out, followed by Sam, whose eyes widened at the sight of curvaceous Darla. “Hey, Darla. Jo didn’t tell me she called you. Or did you call her? What’s got you out our way?”

Darla stared at her, then Jo, and back at Ellen. “You died together and for a similar length of time.”

Unlike Jo, Ellen didn’t appear surprised. “We did.” Ellen nodded. “Long story.”

“Jo said. Both of you coming back from that….” She looked troubled, a frown tugging her brow.

“You can tell they were dead,” Sam asked, moving closer. Jo saw what looked like fear spark in his eyes.

Darla transferred her gaze to Sam and smiled, frown smoothing out. “I can. Death leaves a mark every time. For example, you’ve been dead as well -- and your experience haunts you.”

“A couple times,” Sam admitted. “And haunting may be a decent word for it.”

“More than once makes you a rare individual to be back among us. Not many get more than one extra chance.”

“You should meet my brother.”

“Oh?”

Before Sam could elaborate, Jo motioned at the house. “Why don’t we talk inside?”

Once they were all seated at Bobby’s kitchen table, with Sam introduced, Darla’s suit jacket off, and cups of coffee all around, Darla smiled. “So, Jo, you’ve been out of touch for a long time. Last time we talked was, what?, 2008? I’m curious why you asked me to come here today.”

“Mostly to put my…husband’s…mind at ease.” The word ‘husband’ still felt odd coming from her mouth, but once more, she said it in case Castiel was hanging around. Darla’s glance slid to Sam, who put his hands up.

“No, not me.” He laughed, shaking his head in denial. “I think Jo’s too much of a handful for me. She means my brother, Dean.”

“Dean,” Darla repeated. “Good name. Solid. Tough.”

“You could call him those things,” Ellen murmured.

“What’s bothering Dean? Where is he?” She glanced towards the next room. “Normally, I’d like the worrier to be present. Helps with the easing.”

Jo stacked some papers to get them out of the way. “He’s out on the road. Work. Same sort I met you doing.”

“Is that how you met him?”

Ellen snorted.

“Am I missin’ something?” Darla glanced back and forth between Jo and Ellen. “Ellen?”

“They met a long time ago back when I still had the Roadhouse. Dean and Sam came through and…well, they met then. Jo wasn’t in it yet, though not for wont of trying.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to open any old wounds.”

“You didn’t.” Jo shook her head. “It’s facts and long passed. I did get into it not long after meeting them and here we are today. The problem today is that Dean thinks we’re not ourselves since we came back.” Jo sipped her coffee and waited.

“Not yourselves how?” She was watching them each in turn with her eyes narrowed.

“Just different.” Ellen wasn’t touching her coffee, though she’d added an ice cube and sugar. She stirred the contents slowly. “We did feel weird the first week or two, disconnected, but it went away. For me, anyway. I think it did for Jo, too.”

Jo nodded. “I feel fine now, but Dean can’t stop thinking about it. He’s worried and I’d like to make that worry go away.”

Darla nodded. “The disconnection is normal from what I’ve been told. However, I’ve seen people return different, like something rode them back. One man I met was a copy of himself. He was sweet before and kind of ugly after. It changed him in a bad way.” She sipped her coffee, then asked, “What sort of death was it?”

“Not pretty,” Ellen supplied.

“Death never is,” Darla commented.

“It was bad.” Sam ran a finger around the rim of his mug. “It was hard. We thought we’d lost them forever and it….” He frowned. “It’ll make us all feel better to know they’re okay.”

Darla’s attention turned to Sam, gaze becoming thoughtful.

“So you do what you have to. We have a board if you need one. Cards. I think Bobby even has a crystal around here somewhere.” He swallowed hard and lifted the mug, taking a mouthful of hot coffee that had to have burned his mouth and throat to drink.

“I don’t think I need to do a display, Sam. I can see they’re fine. They’re not changed, not like that guy I mentioned. You on the other hand….” She leaned forward, arms crossing on the table. “You’re troubled. You’re in turmoil over something.”

Jo held her breath, waiting for whatever reading Darla would make.

“You could say that.” Sam sat back in his chair.

“It’s cloudy around you, hard to see.” She squinted.

“What do you see?”

Darla sighed. Her expression was odd, head half cocked, like she was trying to listen to something. She gasped, eyes widening. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t called here to do a reading on you. It was rude of me to say anything.” She bit her lip. “You’re hard to read with a casual glance.” She tried to smile, but it faltered and disappeared in a second.

“Darla?” Ellen set her mug aside untouched. “What did you see just now?”

“Nothing, Ellen. I saw nothing.” She got up. “I should be leaving. I have a long drive.”

She was insistent that she needed to go and Jo escorted her to her car. Sam waited on the porch and Ellen headed back inside after a wave goodbye.

Jo grasped her arm, stopping her from opening the car door. “What did you hear, Darla?”

“Nothing.” She glanced at Sam. “I heard nothing.”

“Come on. I know you were hearing something. You did that whole head tilt thing. I remember that from the McKenzie case. Tell me.”

She licked her lips and crossed her arms. “I don’t know what I heard to be honest. It was faint, almost guttural. Hard to make out, but I thought I heard….”

“What?”

“I thought I heard a voice threaten my life if I didn’t leave immediately.” Her features went slack then and Jo recognized the trance state from previous meetings. Darla was receiving a message of some kind. Slowly, she turned and began to walk closer to Sam. He stepped down to meet her. She said something to him. Jo couldn’t hear what she said, her voice pitched too low. Darla’s hand stretched out.

Sam took it.

They both went pale and Darla began to moan, a moan that rose to a scream. She jerked as though touching a live wire.

He let her go, hands going to his head. He panted, head shaking. Turning, he hurried to the house, wrenched the door open and retreated inside, pushing past Ellen, who’d come to the door.

Jo moved to Darla, reaching to help her up, but the woman pulled away, eyes wide and terrified. “Darla? Are you okay?”

“Fire. Fire everywhere. And heat. So much heat.”

“Darla?”

“How can you be so calm?”

“I don’t --”

“He’s dangerous, Jo. Get away while you still can.” Darla hurried to her car, got in, and was gone.

“Jo! Help me!” Ellen’s voice held a touch of panic.

She ran inside to find Sam on the floor. He was convulsing, Ellen trying to put her belt between his teeth without getting bitten or hit. Jo took over the task while Ellen threw her body across his to hold him down. “What happened?”

“He was muttering like he was talking to Lucifer, crying, and just collapsed.”

In gradual degrees, the convulsions ceased and Sam went limp. Ellen checked his pulse, first at his neck, then wrist. With a groan, Ellen laid on the floor beside him. Her chest heaved from her breaths. “Oh, Lordy, Jo. Did you know he has fits?”

Jo set the belt aside and brushed Sam’s hair from his face with gentle fingers. “No, I had no idea.” Dean hadn’t told her that detail and she wondered why. Nor had Sam mentioned the seizures. Was there a reason they were hiding it? Frowning, she dug her phone from her jeans pocket and dialed. Dean answered on the third ring.

“Yeah?”

“It’s me. We have a situation.”

“What is it?”

“Sam had a seizure just now.” There was silence on Dean’s end. “Dean? Has he had them before?”

“A couple times. Maybe three.”

Sam was stirring, Ellen sitting up and telling him to lie still and not exert himself.

“You knew and didn’t tell us? Why?”

“I thought he was done with them, that they were over. Last one was before Cas raised you and Ellen. I didn’t think he’d have another one. What triggered it, do you know?”

Jo thought about what she’d seen and how he and Darla had reacted to each other. Had it been whatever Darla had told him that caused it? “Not sure. It happened after Darla left a few minutes ago. Darla had a message for him, but I didn’t hear what she said and mom was already inside the house. Darla freaked out, Sam did too, and after she was gone, I came inside and he was on the floor. Mom said he was talking to Lucifer immediately before he collapsed.”

“I think it happens when the hell memories get too intense, but I don’t know. Something in his brain snaps. He doesn’t seem to remember anything about them when they’re over.”

“Okay. What do you want us to do?”

“Is he coming around?”

Sam was awake and looked alert, if confused how he’d gotten on the floor. He kept trying to get up and Ellen kept shoving him back down.

“He’s awake. Mom won’t let him sit up.”

“Make him take it easy.”

“We’ll try. Then what?”

“Then maybe I’ll be back and can take over.”

“Wait.” She shook her head. That was it? Shouldn’t they have a plan of action? “What about medicine? Does he have any he has to take for the seizures?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Dean, fits like this mean there’s something seriously wrong and it’s medical. He needs to see a doctor, get these seizures under --”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I’m unaware that my kid brother needs a rubber room, a daily pill cocktail, and a team of experts looking him over?” His voice was harsh, angry and loud.

“No --”

“Just keep a friggin’ eye on him, Jo! Keep him calm. It’s all we can do.”

Turning, she found Sam sitting, reaching out to her. He looked tired, but okay. “Is that Dean? Let me talk to him.”

“Sam wants to talk to you.” She handed over the phone.

“Dean, hey…. I know…. Don’t remember…. Don’t remember that either…. Uh-huh…. I’ll try…. Here’s Jo again.”

She took the phone back. “So?”

“He’ll try to stay calm for you and when I get back, you and I are visiting that psychic friend of yours. I want to know everything she heard, saw, and said.”

“I’m not sure she’ll see us. She was way freaked when she tore outta here.”

“Then we spring a surprise visit on her.”

“Fine.” The word came out far more snippy than she’d intended and Dean sighed again.

His voice softened. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, but this…. It means he’s getting worse and I can’t…. Just watch him. Please, Jo.”

He couldn’t face losing Sam again. “Will do.”

“See you when we get back.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer appeared while Jo explained why she’d called Darla. His expression as he watched the psychic sent a shiver down Sam’s back. In his eyes was pure malevolence and hatred.

“Tell the bitch to get out of here.” Lucifer’s voice was grating and Sam tried to ignore him, but he was standing behind Darla with a hammer in hand, waving it over her head. “If she doesn’t stop, I’m going to bash her brains in, scoop them out, and use her skull for a punchbowl.”

Darla’s head cocked. He could see a curious glint in her eyes, quickly replaced by the seed of fear.

“She’s going to die if she says anything. I’ll kill her right now, sink a knife into her neck so her blood spurts out all over the floor. Bash her head in. Slice and dice and make her into julienne fries.”

The woman made her excuses, her manner abrupt and frightened, though she tried to hide her fear.

Had Darla heard him? Impossible. Lucifer was all in Sam’s head. Though maybe it was possible. She was a psychic after all.

He watched as Jo followed her out, yet when Darla started towards him, he skirted Lucifer and went to meet her. Flames rose up around them, flames that blocked out Jo at the car, and flames that took the grass until it looked like Darla came to him across a lake of fire. He could feel the heat searing his skin, saw Darla’s fair skin flush and her suit begin to smoke.

She stopped a foot away from him. “Mary is worried about you, Sam. She says you have to see what you’re too afraid to see before it’s too late.” Her hand stretched out to him and without thinking, he grasped it. Darla gasped. He could see the flames reflected in her eyes now. She began to moan.

“Don’t listen to this stupid, has-been cow.” Lucifer strode to her, getting right in her face. “I’ll pull your entrails out woman, and make your children wear them as necklaces.”

Darla’s gaze flicked to Sam’s left…directly at Lucifer. Her moan rose to a scream. Lucifer’s hand raised and Sam released her before the hallucination could touch her. She stumbled back, looking wildly about her.

“Didn’t happen,” Sam whispered.

“Look at her run,” Lucifer grinned.

“No!” He whirled, moving into the house, praying that Lucifer would leave. He didn’t, following Sam, standing everywhere he looked, carrying on a litany of hateful words.

“The message is fake. Mary is long gone, Sam. Not to mention that she barely knew you. Why would she even care? Dean was the son she loved.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

“You’re the bad seed. What mother wants a bad seed?”

“Stop!”

It was the start of being in the cage with him all over again. Words began it and action would follow.

Lights began to flash before his eyes until they consumed him and he was back in the cage, with Lucifer working him over as Michael stood to the side watching, his gaze cool, calm, and thoughtful. He could have protected Sam like Adam, made a corner for him and kept him oblivious. Instead, he’d watched and waited his turn.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dean set his phone down, his stomach feeling like it was sinking inside him. Sam was having more seizures. He’d hoped those were over.

Closing his eyes, he rested his head in his hands. They didn’t need this. Sam didn’t need this. He needed to get well, not sink further into this madness that was beginning to consume him. Jo’s question about medication had hit a nerve. Dean knew what needed to be done, but damned if he was going to do it and consign Sam to hospital hell for the rest of his life.

Not going to happen. Not on Dean’s watch.

They’d figure something out.

After a long while, he returned to his work, flipping through the file and pictures in front of him, mind running a million miles a minute to solve this case. He was getting nowhere fast. The information they had didn’t make sense and he couldn’t seem to make it make sense.

Bobby came through the motel room door and closed it. “Dinner’s on.”

“What the freakin’ hell happened here?”

“You got me,” Bobby replied, setting a bag on the table. The smell of burgers and fries rose up, making Dean’s stomach rumble. “Ain’t like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Begins like demon possession only with that gray stuff. Whatever it is transforms the host, causing their skin to whiten and veins to stand out black under their skin. It drives them to attack other people and kill them in violent ways, sometimes with bare hands. Once the host makes a nice public display of that violence, the gray stuff bugs out, but the effects it had on the host remain the same. They’re changed and cuckoo for cocoa puffs -- and blood, human skin…. I wouldn’t rule out brains at this point. Lather, rinse, repeat. I’ve talked to four other hunters across the U.S. and it’s the same report. Gray stuff, change, violence.”

Bobby set out the food. “No reports of the hosts going cannibal, is there?”

“No, just biting and ripping into the bodies of their victims. They’re not eating, just making a mess. What do these things want? Monsters want something, whether it’s blood, hearts, brains, livers. Revenge. What are these things craving?”

“Violence. Pulling other people apart. Destroying the human body.”

“Yeah.” He tapped a finger on the lid of one cup. “This my shake?”

“Chocolate, just like you wanted, Princess.”

He ignored the comment. “You know,” Dean reached for one burger, “the stuff Cas spits out is gray. What we’ve seen of it anyway.”

“You think it’s connected?”

“Best guess at this point. I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this is just some critter that got loose during the last round of earthquakes.” He dumped his fries out on the burger wrapper, then reached for the ketchup packets, tearing open six and emptying them. “Who knows what the purgatory souls could be now? I mean, we know what happens to human souls in hell, but what happens to monster souls in purgatory? Or what happens to them after they’re filtered through whatever Cas is? We know he lets some of the souls out of him. We’ve seen it.”

Bobby opened his own burger wrapper. “Ellie wasn’t like these things, Dean. She was one of those souls once, escaped directly from it.”

“So maybe it’s not the souls straight. Maybe it’s the Cas connection. Being filtered through Cas, and the corrupted souls from Crowley, has done something to them.”

“Drove them mad?”

“Fundamentally changed what they are. He keeps saying he’s like nothing that’s ever been seen. Could be that what he is launders the souls trapped inside him into something different, and he’s making this monster like Mother of All made monsters only…he’s Father of it.”

“Like Lucifer twisted a human soul only he’s twisting monster souls.”

“Sounds like a theory. Maybe destroying humanity body by body is what they want.”

“You know this is all speculation, right? We don’t even have enough cases to consider the theory.”

He nodded and ate a few fries. “Nothing we can solve here anyway. It’s all done. May as well head back.”

Bobby stopped eating, watching him carefully. “What happened back at the house?”

“Jo called. Sam had a seizure.” He tried to say it like he wasn’t concerned, but knew Bobby saw through it. He read Bobby’s expression before Bobby could say a word. “I know. Believe me, Bobby I know. He needs help that none of us can give him.”

They left as soon as they’d eaten and packed.