Title: The Curse of Bittersweet Kisses
Chapter 6
Notes: Scripture references are most of Romans 9:15, Romans 9:18, and Romans 9:20 (all NIV).

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wake up, Sam!”

Waking to someone yelling was never good. Sam jerked awake, blinked, sat up, and saw Bobby home already. He had a gun pointed towards the kitchen and Sam heard Ellen’s voice.

“Oh, put that thing away. You really planning on shootin’ me?” It was the tone she used when someone was getting ready to do something she considered completely ridiculous. Sam and Dean both usually reacted with either a respectful ‘yes, ma’am’ or ‘no, ma’am’ depending on whatever question she’d asked. “That’s a fine how do you do.”

“You don’t talk. Sam, get up now.”

He struggled to untangle the blanket at his feet, finding it difficult as his body was taking its own sweet time waking up. It felt like he’d taken a huge dose of cold medicine with codeine. He was surprised by how hard he must have slept, though he supposed it was about time since he’d been barely sleeping for a few weeks now. “Bobby, hold on.”

They hadn’t expected him back this early. Sam had hoped to have some sort of advanced warning so they could explain the situation before Bobby glimpsed Ellen or Jo.

“Holding. Get a move on it, kid.” Bobby backed up a few steps, widening his stance. He was impatient for either an explanation or excuse to start shooting and Sam was reminded that he and Dean weren’t the only ones on edge these past weeks. Bobby was as well.

Tossing away the blanket, Sam stood. “First, it’s not a trick and she’s not a shape shifter.”

“Comforting. Keep talking.”

Ellen remained at the table, watching with tired patience. She rested her chin on one hand.

“She’s not a ghost --” He moved closer, slow step by slow step, hearing the sounds of someone moving around upstairs, either Dean or Jo, maybe both.

“I gathered.”

“Or a hallucination.”

“Also gathered. Get to the explaining already.”

He shrugged. “It’s her. Ellen. Actually, Bobby, it’s them. Ellen and Jo.”

“Jo too?” Bobby’s sigh held disappointment and his words weary fear. “What did you two do, Sam? Are you both so desperate now to keep people --”

“No!” He should have figured Bobby might come to such a conclusion, considering the sort of history Sam and Dean had. He held up his hands. “No. This wasn’t our choice.”

“Mine or Jo’s either,” Ellen said before draining her coffee cup. “No one asked us if we even wanted to come back down here.”

“Go on.” He lowered the gun.

Sam suppressed a relieved sigh. He’d had thoughts of Bobby “accidentally on purpose” shooting Ellen because he didn’t think they were telling the truth.

Dean came down the stairs and into the room, Jo appearing behind him as he crossed towards Sam. Jo skirted them all, got a cup of coffee, and joined Ellen at the table. Her hair wasn’t brushed, a tangle about her shoulders and there was a sleepy turn to her gaze. Bobby’s alarmed cry for Sam to wake must have woken her as well as Dean.

“You’re not gonna like it,” Sam told him.

“That stands to figure.” The gun was finally put away.

“Cas made a decision.” Dean went to the kitchen doorway, putting himself between Bobby and the two women and leaning against the doorway. “You remember I’d said a few things about losing people when Cas went all God on us?”

“Yeah. You were trying to keep his attention on you so Sam could stab him.”

“Well, he took it as a personal request from me to do something about that and brought Ellen and Jo back down to be family.”

Ellen sat back in her chair. She crossed her arms.

Sam cleared his throat, gesturing as he spoke. “See, you’re the father figure, Ellen the mother, I’m obviously the brother….” He hesitated mentioning Jo’s part. Castiel’s insistence on her ‘doing her duty’ had embarrassed her and he didn’t want to embarrass her like that if he could help it.

Bobby’s brows rose. “And Jo? What about her? What’s her…place in this family Castiel has cooked up?”

“Can’t you guess?” Jo looked down at the table and back up. “The little wifey with orders to start popping out rugrats. A full family, Bobby, to replace everything Dean has lost. Eventually. Kids take awhile.”

Bobby’s reply was a muttered, “Balls.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo was awakened far too early to a loud cry for Sam to “wake up already”.

She sat up, clutching the covers to her though she was wearing a nightshirt. Dean was pulling on a shirt as he went to the bedroom door.

“Stay put until I call you down,” he ordered as he went out the door.

She ignored the order, tossing the covers aside and dragging on her new robe as she hurried down the stairs after him.

Bobby was home. She took a moment to study his familiar form and realize how glad she was that to see him and happy that he really was out of the wheelchair like Dean and Sam had said he was.

When he saw her, he backed up. In one of his hands was a gun, but he wasn’t pointing it at any of them.

Dean was looking better this morning, though he, like she, was obviously still trying to wake up completely, smothering a yawn with one hand. A night without Castiel hovering had helped him and Jo hoped there’d be more nights like that for both he and Sam. She wondered if he’d been awake already when Bobby come in.

Ellen remained silent, sitting at the kitchen table. She patted the chair beside her in invitation for Jo to join her. After snagging a cup of coffee for herself, she took that invitation.

Sam kept his hands up in a placating gesture. He too had the look of someone who’d just woken up. His hair was tousled and the stubble on his jaw heavy. Jo had only ever seen him completely clean shaven. Even the morning of Carthage he’d been awake before everyone else, showered, shaved, and ready to go.

She listened and added her own explanation when Sam faltered. It was nice of him to try to spare her embarrassment, but unnecessary right now. Bobby’s reply made her nod in agreement. She’d had a few choice words circling in her mind, too.

Dean’s eyes squeezed shut for a few seconds and he took a deep, noisy breath before reopening his eyes. “He’s serious, too. Seems pretty gung-ho on the subject.”

Bobby frowned, blinked twice, and shook his head. “He gone more nuts than he was since I been gone?”

“Not sure there’s much crazier Cas could go,” was Dean’s dry reply.

His sigh was heavy and long. “They’re real?”

“Flesh and blood,” Sam told him.

“How long they been here?”

“A couple days,” Dean supplied.

“You ever gonna talk to us directly?” Ellen crossed her legs. “We won’t bite, you old cuss. Though I suppose I could if you ask nicely.”

Instead of answering, he went to the bottle on the desk, lifted it, muttered that whoever was drinking his whiskey had better stop, and took a hearty swig. He glanced back at them, took another swig, then capped the bottle and turned to face them. “Well, then. This certainly changes things.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean muttered.

Bobby set the bottle on the desk. “I suppose you two are doing what you’re told regarding the reason he brought Jo back.”

Dean’s grin was wry. “Don’t we always do what we’re told?”

He snorted and crossed his arms, leaning back against the desk edge. “You getting rings soon? I notice you’re not wearing any.”

“Rings?” Jo crossed her arms on the table, abandoning her coffee.

“Couples wear rings, you two. Don’t you know anything about getting hitched?”

Jo shook her head. “He just declared it, Bobby. He never said anything about us having to have rings. We don’t need….” But they did. Proof to Castiel that they were taking this seriously and a way to throw off possible suspicion. “Crud.”

Dean’s grin slipped. “Son of a bitch. We need rings, don’t we?”

Sam came to the table and joined Jo and Ellen. “You probably should. Before you end up with rings that are permanently attached.”

“Don’t say that out loud,” Ellen cautioned. “You’ll give ideas.”

“He wouldn’t….” Jo started to say, then sighed. “He would, wouldn’t he?”

“Damn it,” Dean muttered.

Ellen patted her hand. “Go shower and get dressed, sweetie. I think you and Dean are going ring shopping today.”

She blinked. Rings hadn’t been a thing she’d thought she’d have to deal with and from the look on Dean’s face, he hadn’t thought about it either. Count on Bobby to point out something they hadn’t considered.

The entire day felt awkward to Jo. She’d once thought that when and if she went ring shopping, it’d be with a guy she was madly in love with. Not that she didn’t like Dean. She did, it just wasn’t love. Sure, he was an attractive guy and all, but love simply wasn’t in the picture. A little bit of pure lust perhaps.

He bought her the ring she liked, pausing a moment before sliding it on her finger. Jo liked how he didn’t just hand it to her to put on, but rather put it on her, a physical confirmation that they were a team in this. Jo and Dean, united in putting one over on Castiel. He held her hand in his, thumb touching the engagement ring, sliding it a little back and forth on her finger.

“Together, right,” he asked.

“To the end of it.”

His glance raised to meet hers, understanding passing between them. They’d see this to whatever end it came to: either neutralizing Castiel or killing him, thus freeing them from that reason he’d raised her. Then maybe they’d be able relax and re-evaluate what they were to each other.

The rings felt like a weight there on her finger. She could imagine Dean was having the same feeling.

Dean released her hand. “Let’s get lunch.”

Periodically, she felt the skin along the back of her neck seem to crawl. She’d glance around, looking for a reason for that sensation, but there never was one. Jo put it down to nerves over the entire situation.

They ate lunch at Dean’s favorite burger joint, Dean filling her in on movies she’d missed and tv shows she might like. When they got to talking, and their circumstances disappeared from their minds, conversation was easier, almost like it had been before she’d died. But then his gaze would fall on her hand and those rings -- or hers would -- and the awkwardness would creep back in. Jo could almost see the apology in his eyes every time, though at least he was no longer saying it like a reflexive reaction to looking at her.

The sooner they got this taken care of, the better, she decided. “Maybe we should go back to the house.”

“Maybe we should.” He tossed some singles on the table, paid the bill, and led her to the car. She reached for the door handle and he grasped her arm, stopping her from opening the door. “Jo.”

The weird sensation she had of being watched continued, growing stronger until she felt jittery. “Dean?”

With a glance around them, he drew her to him. She had about five seconds to see the uncertainty on his face before he was kissing her. It wasn’t passionate or the sort of kiss that indicated he wanted to throw her on her back. Rather, it was sweet and gentle, the kind of kiss he’d given her in Carthage. Bittersweet.

Tears prickled at her eyes as Dean pulled back. She started to raise her hand to touch his cheek.

“I’m proud of you both.” The pride Castiel claimed was reflected in his voice.

Jo snatched her hand back before touching Dean’s face and quickly wiped away the tears before turning to face Castiel. Had Dean seen him there and that was what had caused the spontaneous kiss? “Castiel.” If all their kisses were like that, there was no way they were going to fool anyone for long, even Castiel.

“It pleases me that you’ve picked out rings together. This decision is a step forward for you both.”

“Yeah, well, we’re all about moving forward,” Dean said, arms going around her. His hands clasped at her waist, holding her back against him. The heat of his body felt good against her back and she relaxed a fraction.

She rested her hands on his.

Stepping close, Castiel cocked his head and asked, “do you still have reservations, Jo?”

“Only the usual ones.”

“Is there anything I can do to ease those worries for you?”

“No. Nothing.”

“And you, Dean?”

“Everything is peachy, Cas.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll leave you. I have murderers, thieves, and liars to punish.”

He was gone then and with him the sensation of being watched. Had she been brought back with a hyper-sensitivity to him? That was twice now she’d thought he’d been there and he had.

The week after Dean and Sam left, Jo spent the days by herself, either wandering Bobby’s property or wandering Sioux Falls noting the changes in the area just in a couple years. She did a lot of thinking, of “soul-searching” on the situation and current world. She intentionally kept herself away from the house and where her mom and Bobby were charging full steam ahead on some project. She wasn’t ready to get involved.

Sitting on the steps near the University library, Jo finalized her plans to figure out just what she could get away with. Once she’d determined her boundaries, she’d begin figuring out how to help Dean and Sam neutralize Castiel -- or kill him if it came to that.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ellen walked across Bobby’s land to the edge of the field nearby. She turned her face up to the sunshine and rested against the fence.

She was feeling better now after two weeks alive, though her appetite still wasn’t back to normal yet. As the days had passed, she’d felt more like herself.

It was apparent this world was very changed. She’d looked at political events, weather reports, entertainment reports, and everything she could think of, spending her days immersing herself in the current world. She’d even checked out the Church of Castiel and the opposition to it.

The opposition campaigned that Castiel wasn’t God, that he was the Antichrist sent to usher in the last days. They cited the miracles, the changes he was making, and more. Their arguments were persuasive. Unfortunately, the movement was floundering. Their leaders had a habit of mysteriously dying right when they began to gain momentum. She suspected it was Castiel doing that, upset at being called an imposter.

As for his ‘church’….

Her lips twisted with disgust. It was made up of mostly women from what she could see on the website, and was growing daily. They had a twitter feed, a Facebook page, and were now starting charities to do the work of God. Women from all over the world had their video testimonies up on YouTube, one page at the church site dedicated to those links. There were a few men among that number, very few at present.

Ellen crossed her arms on top of the fence. It was time to have a talk with Castiel, see if she could talk some sort of sense into him. Bobby had tried to talk her out of this, but she needed to do this, needed to talk to Castiel herself. “Castiel,” she said, “it’s Ellen. Got some time to come talk? There are a few things I need some clarification on and I think only you can answer the questions.”

She waited. Ten minutes, twenty, forty. At nearly an hour, she thought she felt a presence behind her. “Are you there, Cas?” Turning, she saw him appear and approach.

“Hello, Ellen. Your respectful tone is greatly appreciated. Dean could take a lesson.”

“He’s worried about you.”

Castiel laughed and shook his head. She thought she detected a note of sadness to that laugh. “No, he’s not and you know it.” He put his hands in his coat pockets. “What may I answer for you today?”

“You know I’ve got questions.”

“Of course. I knew you’d need answers, so ask.”

She half turned away, looking out across the field again. “Why me? Why not just Jo? You could have brought only Jo back. I admit I’m not entirely clear what my role is here. Jo’s is clear, but mine…. You never gave me instructions. Do I go back to my life or what?”

“Your role is unchanged from the basics of what it was. You guide, you give counsel. You’re a good mother, Ellen, giving a firm hand when needed. Dean isn’t the only one who needs that. Sam especially needs…guidance.”

“I thought you liked Sam. You seemed to before Carthage, but they said you took down the wall Death put in his head. What happened there?”

He joined her at the fence. “Sam betrayed me. Any courtesy I show him now is because he’s Dean’s brother and Dean cares for him. Any affection I may have had for Sam is gone.”

She chose her words with care. “Isn’t one of God’s greatest attributes His capacity for forgiveness of human faults? We’re human. We all have faults.”

“Are you implying I’m not God because I choose not to forgive Sam?” Though she held her breath right then, he appeared to be in a good mood, for he smiled. “Oh, Ellen. How much even you have to learn.”

Condescending much, she thought to herself.

“What right does the clay have to argue with the potter? Who are you, a human being, to talk back to God. “Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’” The potter can make a vessel for any purpose, including one without forgiveness. I raised Sam, like I raised you and Jo. I am your potter and his. If I choose that he not feel my love, then so be it. It’s not your to question. I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion. God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden.”

“I see. Am I allowed to go out hunting?”

“If you wish.”

“Thank you.” It didn’t hurt to continue the respectful theme.

“You’re very welcome.”

“May I ask why you’ve restricted Jo on that matter? She’s a good hunter, Cas. I got her trained right. Hell, she got the Rufus seal of approval and he didn’t trust much of anyone to have his back. He trusted her.”

Castiel turned, studying her. His lips twitched and he leaned forward with a conspiratorial air. “And what of her tendency towards reckless behavior?”

Ellen didn’t reply. He was right. Jo did have a reckless streak. It had gotten smaller the older she got, but it was still there.

“You do see it there in her?”

She nodded once, a stilted nod.

“You do realize she’ll continue such behavior?”

It was a guarantee. “I suppose so.”

“I know so.” He straightened. “I can’t have her running off, getting killed, and making me have to put her back together over and over. I can’t spend my time watching over her alone just in case she chooses to be reckless. Dean shouldn’t have to go through that again, her dying.” He leaned against the fence. “Dean’s experienced more loss than most people ever do. He should have some reprieve and it’s within my power to give him that.”

“What if for some reason Dean needs her there while he and Sam are out?”

He appeared to consider the question. “If Dean needs her for matters besides hunting, she may go. There are rules Jo must follow this time. You’re her mother, Ellen. You understand how a parent is with a child and the guidelines we must give. If she can’t -- or won’t -- behave herself, I will adjust her attitude for her own good.”

“And Dean’s,” she added softly, seeing just how his mind was working on this matter. It really was all about Dean to him and keeping Dean happy on some level. In Castiel’s own way, he was trying to negate some of the emotional turmoil and stress Dean felt, attempting to heal a part of that pain. He was just going about it the wrong way and she found his blindness on the subject of Dean’s happiness a bit disturbing. Having Sam whole again would take much of Dean’s pain away at present. Shouldn’t he know that?

“Correct. And Dean’s. I’m glad you recognize that. He certainly doesn’t and I doubt Jo recognizes what is done for her own good either.”

His stare turned towards her, waiting for a reply and she shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. “Jo can be stubborn sometimes.”

“Yes. Understand that I don’t want to hurt you, but if I have to I’ll discipline you all.” He faced the field again, resting his hands on the fence. “If you truly want what’s best for her, and I know you do because you’re her mother, then you’ll encourage her to behave, to consider all she’s gained with a snap of my fingers and all that can be taken away.”

He was trying to make her an accomplice, appealing to her motherly instincts and Ellen suddenly knew that, whatever else he said or reason he gave, this was why he’d raised her. He wanted her to do exactly what she’d always done: protect Jo, only he wanted her to protect Jo from her own tendencies. Castiel wanted her to take his side in this and she wondered just what he’d do if he decided she wasn’t on his side. Snap her out of existence again? Give her an attitude adjustment?

She wet her lips and squared her shoulders. “Cas, I have to ask. Have you looked at Sam at all? Can he be healed?”

Now he turned away. Clouds crept across the sky in a rush and the wind began to pick up. “Sam is a completely different topic to discuss on many levels. Ask about something else, Ellen, or this dialogue is terminated.”

“I think I’ve enough to ponder on for awhile.”

His head tipped back slightly. “You may call on me when you have more questions. Perhaps you can convince Dean that he should resume his prayers if he wishes to be blessed.”

Before she could reply or even form any kind of reply, Castiel was gone and the wind and clouds with him. Ellen remained where she was awhile longer, thinking on what he’d said, but no matter which way she looked at it, they were all screwed one way or another.