Title: The Curse of Bittersweet Kisses
Chapter 16

~~~~~~~~~~

The program on the tv didn’t truly interest Jo, but she watched it anyway, like she’d watched the past three hours of that same show.

She was completely bored with her own plan of testing the boundaries Castiel had put on her, not bothering to go out the past two days. He hadn’t shown any interest in corralling her since that day he’d threatened to take her memories, nor had he even shown up, and she was hating the position he’d placed her in. Being the little woman safe at home had never appealed to her.

Why was he so dead-set against her hunting? Part of her thought he was afraid of what she might accomplish or perhaps what she might help Dean and Sam accomplish. Was he really afraid that she’d die? After all his talk of being able to bring her back, why was he afraid of her dying? That fear made it seem as if he didn’t think he could bring her back again.

But that couldn’t be the truth. Because if it was, it meant he had lost an ability even angels low on the totem pole had appeared to possess.

Jo pondered that a moment as a commercial came on.

While he still seemed to have a bunch of other powers, he was behaving stranger and stranger. Some of that could be chalked up to him trying to hide his lessening powers and status from them and the world. Some could be the powers themselves affecting him, changing him further. She was going to have to watch him all the closer when he did appear again, see if she could ascertain what was the truth.

Her attention returned to that plan she’d begun right after he’d raised her. She’d looked at so many properties now that she could no longer keep them straight in her head and had taken to writing down notes on the printed listings so she’d be able to tell everyone about each one when she got back. They all pretended interest and Bobby even asked the sort of questions he’d be asking if she was really trying to find them a house.

Was this what her life was going to be now?

Ellen came in the room and stopped at the end of the couch.

Sprawled in a prone position on the couch, Jo craned her neck to look up at her. “What?”

Putting her hands on her hips, she stared down at Jo with the sort of fierce frown she’d used when Jo was a teenager and had stayed in bed until two in the afternoon on a Saturday. She pursed her lips, then stepped forward and turned off the tv.

“Hey!” Jo raised her head off her pillow a few inches. “I was watching that!”

“You don’t need to sit on your ass --”

“I’m not sitting, I’m lying down.”

“ -- in your pajamas all day watching crap like Dr. Sexy, M.D. reruns.”

“I’m not in my pajamas,” she protested, but really, the yoga pants she did wear as pajama bottoms, as she did with the tank top.

Jo could tell that depression in her circumstances was beginning to set in. Stumbling on that job while on a ‘honeymoon’ with Dean had only whet her appetite for hunting again. She almost felt like she was back at the Roadhouse, except Ellen wasn’t the one holding her back. She was the one trying to give Jo tasks that would help with her depression. Unfortunately, the only cure was to be actually out there working, a thing she couldn’t do without the wrath of Castiel coming down upon her head.

She’d silently muttered quite a few angry epithets at him recently.

“Joanna Beth.”

“And it’s not Dr. Sexy.” She adjusted her blanket. “It’s one of the spin-offs. Mercy Clinic I think. Or something like that.”

“Get your ass off that couch.” Coming close, Ellen started poking at Jo’s socked feet with a finger.

“Why?” Jo moved her feet away from her mother’s prodding and sat up. “Not like I can hunt anything. According to Cas, this is my life now. Staying home, eating bonbons, and watching soaps like a good little obedient woman.”

“Now there’s a nice heaping dose of self-pity I hear,” Dean remarked, coming into the room from the stairs. He and Sam had rolled back in about an hour earlier only to say they couldn’t stay and were headed back out. Dean hadn’t even taken off his jacket and Sam had remained outside.

“It’s the truth.” She rolled her eyes.

“Will you stop the attitude and act your age?” Ellen crossed her arms. “You’re getting up because you’re going with them.”

She moved to put her feet on the coffee table. “Right. I’ll sit in the backseat and keep the motel light burning. Woo-hoo. Exciting.”

But that was Jo’s bag Dean had in hand. He wouldn’t have brought it down if it wasn’t true.

“Actually, you’ll help me keep an eye on Sam.” His expression spoke volumes. “I don’t want to leave him alone. He’s starting to show some side effects and we need to keep track of what they are and the severity. Doc gave us a list of ones that if Sam has them, we call him immediately. I need someone to be with him when I’m not and yes, that includes when we split up to hunt down leads and talk to people.”

Ellen perched on the couch arm. “Castiel did say you could go, Jo, as long as you’re there for matters besides hunting. He told me that months ago.”

“Does he still mean it?”

Dean set her bag on the couch and opened it. “Unless he’ll fix Sam he’ll have to because I’m not leaving Sam by himself for any reason.” He gestured at the contents. “Take a look. I just grabbed things you seem to wear a lot.”

The fact that he’d noticed what she wore didn’t pass by her. Of course, he also noticed when she didn’t wear anything. Jo rifled through the clothes, sorting them. He’d packed for whatever occasion might occur. “Looks fine.” He’d even remembered her toiletries. “I should let you pack for me all the time.”

“Good. Get dressed and if there’s anything else you want, go get it. Sam’s making sure we’re filled up on all counts, but when he’s done, we’re leaving.”

He turned to go and Jo grabbed his arm. “Dean, wait. If I’m out there with Sam --”

“It’s cleared. I talked to Castiel about it this morning, explained what I’ll need you there for and why. Don’t worry about it.”

“You saw him.” She released his arm.

His nod was slow. “Yeah, I did. He’s…weird. Out of it. Pretended like he was monitoring the world while he talked to me, but that wasn’t it. His focus was inward, not outward. I could tell. He used to look like that right after he lost his angel powers, like he had a million things he was trying to process and didn’t know how. He kept rubbing his stomach, too. I don’t think he realized he was doing it. Something’s up with him, something big. We’ll talk about it later.” He gestured towards the desk. “Bring your notes, too. Anything you’ve found on the gray stuff.”

Jo got dressed as fast as she could, not wanting them to be waiting around on her, grabbed a few things to keep herself occupied, and was ready within twenty minutes.

The job they had appeared to be a mermaid. Jo read through the file in the backseat, a pillow wedged between her and the door, and a container of salt and vinegar potato chips and bottle of water beside her. Every so often, she leaned forward so Sam and Dean could have some of the chips, too.

A couple hours into the trip, Sam half turned to face her. “Found anything on the purgatory demons?”

“Is that what we’re calling them?”

“Fits,” Dean said.

“True, but I was expecting something a little more creative from you two.”

Sam laughed. “Why not just go with what’s obvious on this one?”

“Be easier for other hunters to remember it.” Dean glanced in the rearview mirror. “Chips?”

She held it forward. “You take it. I’m done with them for now.” It took a minute to dig her notebook out of her bag. Jo flipped it open. “I’ve found a vague reference in supposedly Babylonian writings about a smoke that created monsters, but they could have been referring to some type of hellspawn. Bobby thinks the translation could be wrong.”

“It’s something.” Dean ate a chip. “Any mention of metal with that writing?”

“Nope. I also found a demon called a Cheitan. It’s made of smoke, but I wasn’t able to find an origin point for it or specific culture. Then there’s the Enenra. It’s Japanese, made of smoke, lives in bonfires, takes human form when it appears, and the pure of heart are supposed to be the only ones who can see it.”

“Pure, huh?” Amusement colored Dean’s voice. “Can’t be that one if Sam and I saw it.”

“Pure of heart is a lot different than pure of body, Dean.” Sam snagged the chips from Dean and closed the container.

“Have to agree with Sam on that one,” Jo said.

“Go on, Jo.” Sam was watching her with an interested expression. Probably glad he hadn’t had to do the work on this.

“That’s it. There’s surprisingly little out there on smoke monsters that physically change a person.” She handed him the notebook. “See for yourself.”

His brows rose as he glanced through the notes. “I see that.” He held up the notebook to a page of doodles she’d done while bored. “Nice art.”

“Thanks. I was thinking about the silver thing. Maybe a colloidal silver spray could do something against the mist? We can try it, see if it pisses it off as much as the jewelry did.”

“Beauty and brains and she’s all mine.” Dean glanced in the mirror at her, then reached out and smacked Sam in the arm. “Aren’t you jealous, Sammy?”

“Green with jealousy.” He smiled and turned back around. “Think I’ll take a nap. Wake me when we stop.”

Jo settled back with a magazine.

~~~~~~~~~~

The church was very warm.

Castiel sat, pretending to be listening while Constance told him about the arrangements that had been made. He relaxed back in the chair and breathed in the soothing scents of the flowers in the office. Out of all of his churches, this one was his favorite and not just because it was here in Sioux Falls. Constance always made sure there were fresh flowers in the vases and she’d done all she could to make the building reflect him. Her focus was on him completely and it showed.

He’d been having a terrible time rounding up the spirits and disposing of them. It was like they all knew now that he couldn’t take them back and he got the impression that they were somewhat organized, the ones that were out the longest mentoring the newest to leave him.

Strange and terrible. The last thing the world needed was another monster that was difficult to kill, yet he’d managed to create one.

From her place at his feet where she knelt, Constance raised a hand and lightly touched his knee. “My Lord?”

“Yes?”

“Are you alright?” She didn’t remove her hand from his knee, letting her touch become more firm when he didn’t remove her hand.

“I’m fine, Constance.”

Her smile was relieved. “I’m glad. You don’t seem yourself, not like in past weeks.”

“The world is wearying.”

The response appeared to satisfy her and she nodded. “I’ve a request.”

“Name it.” Her hand on his knee was warm and the contact was not unpleasant. He was almost disappointed when Constance slowly slid her hand away. She pressed it to her chest.

“A close, dear friend of mine would like to have a private audience with you after the ceremony is over. Margaret is quite devout and I believe she’d be an asset to your team here. I tried to tell her I have the authority hire her, but she insists on seeing you for approval. She says she wants your personal blessing in her ministry, that it won’t be effective without it.”

Maybe he should see the woman, give her the blessing she wanted. It’d encourage others and might make him feel better to see another ministry begin. “Is Margaret here tonight?”

“She is. She’s been at every service we’ve held here for weeks. I’ve invited her into my home and she’s been such a blessing to me. I barely go anywhere without her now. Frankly, Lord, she’s indispensable.”

“Then tell her I’ll meet with her here in this room after the ceremony tonight. After the television crew has gone.”

Constance’s smile widened to a grin. “She’ll be so happy!”

Her joy caused a warmth to rise inside him, spreading through his body. “You may tell her now if you wish, and return later to finalize the order tonight.”

“Thank you, Lord.”

When she had gone, he leaned his head back and sighed. Dean had called him earlier in the week. He’d called at a rather inconvenient time, as Cas was resting from another battle with the creatures, but he’d gone, glad to have Dean’s prayers again even if they were so short as to be rude.

He’d explained the situation with Sam and about the medication, how he needed Jo with them so there was someone watching Sam at all times. His argument for Jo to go had been laid out well and Castiel had agreed to allow Jo to go with them. She wouldn’t be hunting, but watching Sam in case of trouble. It was acceptable. Not ideal, yet acceptable.

He hoped that this was the beginning of Dean’s return to him. It could be a start at least.

By the time the ceremony was to begin, he was feeling completely rotten and having Constance at his side helped. She was thrilled to be invited to assist him on stage and each time he faltered a little, her words of encouragement gave him the energy to continue. He honestly couldn’t wait until this was all over and he could rest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had all the luck.

At least that was Jo and Dean’s consensus. He was the one who’d discovered the mermaid was actually a shape shifter trying to cash in on a local legend. Of course, he’d been fending off her advances at the time…. If any of them were a magnet for weird, he thought he should get that title.

Pulling on a clean shirt, he stepped back into the motel room.

Under this medicine, his hallucinations hadn’t gone away. They’d simply shifted. He was no longer seeing Lucifer himself. Rather, he saw Jo, Dean, Bobby, and Ellen with that same clear, sharp likeness. They’d say things like how they couldn’t wait until he went around the bend completely and they’d be free of him, that he should give in to the madness and reintegrate that last bit of himself he was being stubborn on. It was a good bet to say it was Lucifer in his head messing with him like he always had. The other hallucinations, the ones he knew were memories playing out, had dimmed until they were barely noticeable. They resembled ghosts stuck in a loop, replaying moments over and over, part in this world and part out of it.

He was also beginning to have side effects. He felt tired, yet couldn’t sleep, insomnia keeping him up to all hours once more. His appetite had increased, which could have been okay if nausea didn’t keep him from eating much. They were going to have to try another medication because this one was bothering him. Dean had already given Doc Allen a call about it.

The smell of the popcorn Dean and Jo had made caused his stomach to turn a little as he passed them and he went to the table, opening up the laptop. He’d do a little research while the two watched tv, try to find something they could move on to.

He’d found something of a lead when his phone rang. “Ellen, hi.”

“Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?”

“Okay. Had a little setback. Pills aren’t working right.”

“You got through the job okay though?”

“I did. Jo was a big help. Kept me focused during interviews.” She had, too. She’d seen enough of his hallucinatory episodes to recognize when one could be coming on and had been able to touch his hand or something to ground him in reality long enough to finish the task they were on. She’d even had a few insights on the monster, especially after the shape shifter’s attention had moved to him. “Glad she came with us on this one.”

“Good. You call your doctor? He can prescribe you something new.”

He sat forward and smiled at the concern in her voice. “Ellen, are you afraid we won’t call him?”

She was silent for a few seconds. “You two do tend to go against advice at times. I’d like to see this followed through and you get the peace you need.”

“Dean handled it earlier. It’s all taken care of.”

“Then I promise I won’t worry about it again.”

“Yeah, you will. You’ll worry.”

Her laugh was low and throaty. “You caught me. Of course I’ll worry. Are you all watching the ceremony tonight?”

Sam glanced at the tv. “We’ve got it on now.” Castiel had begun baptizing people in his name three weeks earlier and the major networks were carrying the four hour twice a week ceremony. People were flying in from all over the world to be baptized at locations the church had announced.

Jo and Dean were lying on one bed passing the popcorn bag back and forth. Sam knew that when they were done with that one, they’d pop another and work through it until the ceremony was over. On the screen, Castiel had appeared on the stage and was waiting as people lined up. He was in Sioux Falls this week and Sam was sort of glad they weren’t there. Traffic would be horrible.

“I went to the store earlier to stock up on a few things,” she said, “and the sheriff had six cars pulled over. Heard it was a drug bust and a pretty good one. Can’t wait to see if Cas addresses it tonight.”

“You think he will?”

“He’s big on righting some wrongs of the world. He smote that one drug lord down in Mexico awhile back. There’s a good bet he’ll mention the bust earlier, maybe even bring the offenders from the jail and punish them on live tv.”

He’d forgotten about the drug lord. “You’re right. He did that with the drug lord. It was on the news for a couple weeks after.”

“Listen, sweetie, I have to go. Pizza just got here and Bobby’s got a couple cold ones for me.”

“Alright. Bye, Ellen.”

He would have thought Jo and Dean would get tired of watching the ceremony after an hour, but they kept watching. Dean brought out a beer for himself and one for Jo. Because of his medicine, Sam declined to drink. Better not to mix it with alcohol since it wasn’t working well to begin with. No telling what adding alcohol would do. With his luck, it’d cause seizures and he’d had enough of those.

Sam stretched his legs out and watched the tv. The line of people waiting went out the door and the sanctuary was filled with people watching. The baptism was by immersion in water, like the baptism for other religions, each person waiting wearing a white caftan. He didn’t know what any of it was meant to signify in the Church of Castiel, if anything.

In Sam’s opinion, Castiel looked sick, his skin pale and a little sallow beneath the lights. A close-up showed he was sweating, dots of perspiration on his brow. In between people, he’d rub one hand across his stomach and bow his head. A couple times, it almost seemed like he was going to make a dash offstage to throw up. He’d swallowed hard and gulped in a breath, swaying in place. Constance would step forward every time to steady him, her expression loving and adoring. She’d whisper something to him that the microphone never caught. Whatever she said, it seemed to give him strength.

“He looks bad,” Sam commented. “Like really bad. He didn’t sweat before.”

“He also didn’t used to show emotions like he did when I saw him last,” Jo said, changing position so she could put a pillow under her chest.

Dean’s attention slid to Jo while she adjusted her position and Sam suspected he was looking down her shirt. He did that a lot and when Jo noticed, she’d get this little pleased smirk on her lips. “Good. Let him know how it feels to be sick and hurting. Maybe he’ll come and heal you after this.” The satisfaction in Dean’s voice was unmistakable and, if Sam admitted it to himself, he felt a twinge of that himself regarding Castiel’s apparent illness.

But he didn’t want to watch it and revel in it. He didn’t want to sink to that level. Sam turned back to the table as the next person stepped into place.

A shot sounded and he looked back at the screen. Constance screamed. There was blood on Castiel’s shirt. His arm lashed forward in a blur, a cloud of gray pouring from his lips.

The popcorn bag fell to the floor, Jo getting onto her knees and Dean standing. Jo’s hand gripped Dean’s arm and Sam moved to stand level with them, watching and waiting for the outcome. He felt like he couldn’t draw in a breath, suspended in the moment.

Another man appeared, eluding security and moving behind Castiel. With a cold smile, he aimed and shot Castiel in the back. A surge of what looked like energy played across Castiel’s body. Surprise flickered across Castiel’s features and then he was falling to the stage beside the baptismal tank. Blood poured from him, soaking his shirt. He coughed, blood spitting from his lips.

Constance screamed again and threw herself across him, ripping off her sweater. “No!” The agony on her features was almost painful to witness and she tried to staunch the flow of blood with her sweater. One hand touched his face, the other held the sweater in place. “No, no, you can’t die! Stay with me! Castiel, don’t go!”

He drew in a shuddering breath and went limp, his eyes closing.

When the guards dragged Constance off Castiel, her dress was soaked with his blood, plastered to her body. She began to sob, her outpouring of emotion the only sound as the camera panned back. The audience was stunned, shocked by what they’d seen.

“Damn,” Sam breathed. “Did I just see Castiel die on stage or is this medication crapping out on me completely?”

His words seemed to snap Jo into activity and she began packing, throwing things into bags. “It happened. Help me pack.”

“It’s a publicity stunt, right? Something to give his church a boost?” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t a stunt. Castiel had been genuinely surprised when he’d been shot.

Jo paused in her task, slowly shaking her head. “I don’t think so, Sam. I think…. I think he really was just assassinated on live tv.”

But how? How did someone know how to kill him? They’d been trying to think of a way for months now and…. The Colt. Could it have been? Had someone found the Colt and used it? That play of energy along Castiel’s body. It could be the Colt.

The scene replayed in Sam’s mind and he knew that he couldn’t rest until he knew for sure if it was the Colt. He’d begin looking at the official videos first, then move on to the amateur ones taken by cell phones, cameras, and camcorders. Perhaps Castiel was one of the things the Colt could kill. He’d start investigating on the way back.

Dean was already on the phone to Ellen. “Get there,” he told her. “Find out everything. Use any channel you and Bobby have. We’re heading back now. We’re about nine hours out.”

It didn’t seem real.

He stared at the screen. It had gone blank and now moved into a commercial that was too cheerful to follow what had just played out.

Castiel had been assassinated.

Castiel was dead.