And Sing of Sweet Surrender - Part Sixteen
I’ve crossed the last line
From where I can’t return
Where every step I took in faith
Betrayed me
“Sing to me,” Jess murmured gently, voice sing song as she trailed her fingers slowly over her lover’s stomach, gently. “Sing to me of sweet surrender and love and happiness, Jo.”
“And sweet… sweet surrender… is all I have to give,” Jo sang softly, inexpertly but carefully.
“That’s not happy,” Jess murmured softly.
“I know,” she admitted, shifting slightly on the little ratty bed, shifting closer to her lover. The mattress under them, just covered by a car blanket that they had been keeping in the back seat, was moldy and water stained, and inside a dusty old trailer, but at least it was a place to lay their heavy heads. They’d been on the run for two weeks, just trying to get as far away from everything as possible when Ellen had parted ways with them to help Bobby with the Winchesters. She kept in contact with them, to let them know that Sam was alive and well, that everything was muddled. She’d let them know about the release of the demons, and they were frantically mopping things up, now.
Jess and Jo had exorcised every demon they could find, desperately, but things were messier than expected.
“No rest for the wicked,” Jess murmured, quietly.
“Was that not rest, that we just had?” Jo smirked faintly, resting her head in the hollow of the other’s shoulder, brushing her fingertips across the other’s breasts. “No wait, that was hot, sweaty messy sex. Much more enjoyable than rest.”
She laughed softly, trailing her fingertips down the other’s spine. “Mm. Finally.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” She groaned, closing her eyes for a moment. “ I was so sure we were going to just drop somewhere before we managed to get a rest. Hopefully things will settled down a little, soon, so we can find a motel soon. This particular little place is kinda… skeezy.”
Jess snorted, stretching. “I dunno… it’s got a nice foresty back yard, and no nosy neighbours…”
“No electricity or running water…”
She snickered. “Is that really necessary?”
“Yes.” Jo said firmly. “Yes, absolutely, I fucking need showers.”
“Oh, good point, you’re gorgeous all dripping wet and scrubbed clean,” Jess sighed softly, grinning at her, brushing her hair back gently.
“Are you okay?”
“Mm?” she looked up, quietly. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been… quiet. Ever since that night… the fire,” Jo murmured, brushing her fingers over the other’s collarbone, gently, trailing her fingertips over the anti-possession tattoo. “I know it was bad, but… ever since you left…”
“I know,” she whispered.
“What’d you do, Jess?” Jo looked up to meet her eyes. “Please… Jess. If I’m all to you that you say I am… you’ll tell me. What’d you do?”
Brushing Jo’s hair back, Jess cupped her lover’s jaw, considering her. “Maybe you don’t want to know.”
“Believe me, Jess,” her voice cracked. “I want to know.”
“Do you remember… what Anna told me?”
“That she took you out of hell so that you could save Sam,” she said softly, considering that. “Because saving Sam meant that you were going to be saving… everyone. She said you had to get him out of hell.”
“Yeah,” Jess murmured.
“So?”
“So I did what she asked. I think.” She keened softly, closing her eyes. “I - I made a deal.”
“You didn’t.” Jo bolted up, alarmed.
“I did,” she whispered.
“You - you sold your soul, didn’t you?!” she demanded, bolting up. “You sold your fucking soul and - and - you didn’t even ask me first?!”
“Jo,” she caught her lover’s hands, squeezing them gently. “Look at me.”
She keened softly, but did.
“I - I love you, Jo.” She said, firmly, holding her hands tightly, meeting her eyes properly. “I do. I love you. With every… fibre of me. But even though I want nothing more than to grow old with you, and sit on a front porch, blue haired and happy… we’re hunters. And apparently we have a destiny bigger than… most peoples. And apparently, for me, according to the angels, my destiny includes being the one to sell my soul to save Sam. I’m not… I didn’t do it for him, Jo. I did it for… everyone.”
Jo’s lip was quivering. “You sold your soul to save the planet?”
“Well, the people on it, anyway,” she shrugged crookedly, wiping at her eyes. “I - if there had been another way, I never would have… but I want to save… everyone. Them all. This is what I had to do. You and me… I know it ain’t much, but we have a year.”
“Only a year?! It’s supposed to be ten - !”
“I know.” She said, quickly, squirming to sit up properly, reaching up to brush the tears under Jo’s eyes away with the pad of her thumb. “I know. Just… just a year. Maybe because I’ve been there already, and I’m not special enough, anymore, or something. I’m sorry. We’ll… we’ll make it good. I was thinking… we could quit.”
“Quit.” Jo repeated.
She nodded, quietly. “We could.”
“We can’t… quit.”
“Not for our last year together?” she asked. “I’m not saying we have to, babe, I just… I thought I’d offer it.”
“I’d love to have just a year of nothing but you and me. To not go out, to not risk our lives.” She said softly, stroking the other’s jaw, gently. Jo looked intense as she said it, though. “I’d love to just… have sex with you every day, and spend hours in the tub, and watch shit tv together and do nothing useful or important or helpful for the world. But I know that if I did… I would feel guilty. The whole time. For squandering what you had left.”
“Jo…” Jess whispered, kissing her gently, “You are all I have left. You are it. The world can go fuck itself.”
She hesitated. “Then we quit.”
“Okay.” She whispered, and kissed her again. “Let’s quit.”
----
“I like your ending.”
Jude looked up, blinking slightly. The manuscript in front of her was marked all over with red ink, as though none of the lines on that particular page could be left the way it was, and blinked up at Sera, who was leaning in the kitchen doorframe in her pajamas. “Huh?”
“The ending.” She walked into the room, properly. “Of your fanfic. I like it.”
“I ended it?” she blinked.
“Yeah.” Sera hesitated. “Didn’t you? Jess has a year left before the crossroad deal catches up to her and Meg comes to get her, so the girls quit. That… ends it, right?”
“Uh…” Jude glanced at the notebook that sat just beyond the manuscript she was working on. “….no.”
“No?” she repeated, and Sara sat across from her at the table, tugging the notebook closer to her. Flicking through the pages, she considered the messy doctor-like handwriting, trying to read it, then started flicking through the pages. “What is this?”
“That’s… the raw format.” She hesitated, scratching at her jaw, fidgeting as she watched her best friend flick. “It’s not… finished…”
“You wrote everything.” She gaped at the pages.
“I didn’t - not everything…”
“Jess goes to the bathroom, Jo buys orange juice at the grocery store, they watch Die Hard and you describe the fucking movie… oh my god, Jude, it’s like you just… wrote down every single thing they do!”
“It’s not finished.” She said again, flushed. “I - I have to cut it down.”
“This isn’t normal!” Sera brandished the notebook at her. “Do you do this all the time?! Is this what you do?!”
She flushed. “Not…”
Sera bolted up, and started moving back towards her best friend’s bedroom, ignoring Jude’s yelps of horror and alarm as she followed her. Marching to the huge bookcase against Jude’s wall, she scooped one of the notebooks off of it, and flicked through it, then thrust it at her friend. “This is another one! The same!”
“I’m not - I didn’t write everything…” she protested, wincing as her friend tore another one off the shelf.
“Every one!”
“That’s how I think…” she murmured, squirming slightly, flushed.
“I thought you were done!”
“I can’t stop, Sera… not until the story is done. My head hurts when I don’t… I start to… it has to be done. If I don’t write, my migraine’s get worse, and I just want to drown the shrieking with silence, and… writing it down is the only way I can stop the pain. I have to.”
“This isn’t healthy.”
“I know.” She murmured. “Do you want me to… to move out or something?”
“Alone? Are you fucking kidding me? First. You are my editor.” Sera pointed at her. “You can’t bail on me, or these books will never be published, and you know we have enough trouble with this as it is, dammit. Second… I can’t afford the rent on this place alone, and you know that, too. Third. I don’t trust you to be alive and safe if you aren’t here! All right?!”
“…okay?” Jude murmured, swallowing.
“Damn. If this were original fic… I’d have tried to publish it.” She muttered. “Never seen an author lose themselves so much to their work before. Damn.”
Jude snorted, softly, flushed.
----
He said to lose of my life or lose my love,
That’s the nightmare I’ve been running from
So let me hold you in my arms awhile
I was always careless as a child
A year.
A year wasn’t very long. But it was a good year. A beautiful year. A gorgeous year of calm, and serenity, and joy. They laughed often, they loved hard.
And during the year, Jess carefully transcribed her papers and notes and all the extensive information she had gathered over the last year into a thick, leather bound book. The Daemonology text had been lost in the Roadhouse fire, but at least she had this left, to give to Jo, for when the other woman got to go back out to hunt after Jess was gone. She wanted to make sure this information was left. Some hunters had to learn the truth about hell.
Jess had thought she’d accepted her fate. Realized her destiny. Was prepared to face her own mortality.
But now that the year was almost up - three days, thirteen hours, twenty one minutes remaining - the very last thing she wanted to do was to crawl back into that pit. She wanted to be saved. She hadn’t seen Anna since before the sacrifice itself, so she didn’t think the angel was likely to come back to help now. It was just the two of them, and this was… she did not want this to be her fate.
But it was hard to face that idea. After all… she’d done it for a reason. And she had been the one who sold her soul, after all.
But Jo had been dropping, well, less than subtle hints about wanting her to live, about wanting her to stay with her forever. That wasn’t really making it easier.
Finally, when Jo suggested she might have found someone that could save her, Jess reluctantly agreed.
“Here,” Jo offered her a small hex bag.
Jess hesitated, then tugged her jacket the rest of the way on before taking it, carefully, and tugging the drawstrings open so she could look inside. “This is goofer dust.”
“Mmmhmm,” she nodded, looking very serious.
“This is the stuff that holds hell hounds back,” she held up the bag, frowning.
“I know,” Jo whispered. “Please?”
Jess sighed softly, and shoved the hex bag in her jacket pocket, reluctantly. “Just… whatever happens, Jo, remember that I brought this on myself. I did it. It’s my own goddamn fault, remember?”
“I know. But…”
“But you don’t want it to be,” she murmured, kissing her lover’s forehead, gently. “I know. Just remember that… when I start seeing the dogs, instead of just hearing them… there’s nothing you can do. I can see the demons already as it is. Just a couple days.”
“Three,” she said quickly.
“Okay,” Jess smiled faintly, brushing Jo’s hair back, gently. “I just… don’t want to give you any false hope. I want to take care of you, but… hell, I sold my soul, babe.”
“No more sad.” She ordered. “I’ve had enough of being depressed. Okay?”
She nodded, obediently.
“I have two stops,” she murmured. “Okay? We’re going to try…”
“Just be careful, or Meg… Meg’ll come.”
Jo nodded, and tugged Jess out of their motel room. It was their home, now. They had filled it with their things, managed to create an actual home, with their clothing everywhere, with material possessions like neither of them had had before this year, like movies and video games and things that made their lives easier and happier. It was the lifestyle of the poor but happy, not the lifestyle of a hunter. For once.
Jess left it with a long lingering look. Just in case.
It took two and a half days, to visit the possible saviors Jo was hoping would keep her Jess with her forever, and neither of them had any possible cures. One had been a complete sham who just wanted to ‘help’ for a good pile of money, and the other had been genuinely devoted to helping, but was, sadly, completely useless. As they drove, Jo in the driver’s seat for once, Jess kept flinching as she spotted demons everywhere. And when she would try to focus on anything now, there seemed to be black shadows at the edges of her vision. Dogs.
“She’s coming, Jo,” she said, gently.
“No.” Jo’s hands were shaking on the steering wheel, knuckles white as she clutched at it. “Jess, I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want you to leave me…”
“I know. I don’t either, but… I have to.”
She keened. “We can hide, we can put the goofer dust out, we can…”
“Just find a motel, Jo,” she whispered, glancing at the clock. Three hours. “I want to rest before… before. With you. Okay?”
She nodded, quickly.
Feeling like everything was rushing past in a whirl, Jess stood at the massive picture window in the front of their motel room, the world seeming to swirl and spin around her like she was standing on a carousel that someone had managed to turbo charge. She was trying to remain calm and collected. Honestly, Jess had expected that to be hard, as though the black demon dogs she could see creeping closer through the bushes in front of the motel would make her panic, but… they didn’t seem to bother her anymore. They were there. So they were going to come. That’s what they did.
Jo stood behind her, hugging her from behind, arms wrapped around the other’s waist, forehead pressed against the other’s shoulders. “I could throw myself in front of them,” she whispered. “And stop them.”
“Not happening, Joanna Beth,” Jess said firmly, smiling faintly as she closed her eyes.
“I just don’t want to lose you.”
“I know,” she murmured. “I don’t want to lose you either, Jo. I really don’t.”
Her hands trembled on the other woman’s stomach, and Jo whispered, “I know it makes me sound like an ungrateful clod, but… I’d rather have you alive, than defy the apocalypse.”
She laughed softly, opening her eyes again.
Her breath caught slightly. Jo couldn’t see, because she was behind her, face pressed into Jess’ back, but Jess could see the massive black dog, paws on the glass, tongue lolling, red eyes focused directly on her. When he saw that she was looking, an almost evil grin crossed over his face - who knew that dogs could grin? - and slammed his head into the glass of the picture window.
Both women howled as the glass shattered, pieces flying towards them, slashing into their arms. Jess threw her arms up over her face, but the massive paws of the hell hound slammed into her shoulders and threw her back towards the ground.
Jo scrambled across the room and scooped up the rifle, firing randomly at a demon she couldn’t see.
“Fuck!” Jess cried, rolling out of the way of the demon, clutching at her arm. The salt Jo was firing randomly had hit her, not the demon, and she winced, then yowled in horror when the hell hound spun from her towards Jo, pissed that it was being shot at. “Stoppit! Stop firing, Jo!”
“No!” she howled, firing again, crying.
“Don’t! I don’t want it to get you!” she body checked the hell hound, knocking it aside and snapping the hell hound’s attention right back to her.
“Jess, no - !” Jo bolted forward, trying to stop the inevitable.
She never got the chance.
The hell hound lunged, massive jaws crunching down on Jess’ shoulder, and she howled in pain as it yanked her down to the ground, and shook her, hard.
Screaming, Jess struggled against the massive jaws, nails clawing and slashing at the demon’s face as she strained to get out of its grip. Her every nerve was on fire, and she could feel blood bubbling out of her mouth, trailing down her jaw and throat, down her chest. She’d heard once before that you can feel when you’re going to die, that even if you get close a thousand times before, the final moment before your death, you could tell. And she could feel it, could feel the life slipping out of her as she looked up at her girlfriend, who was screaming and sobbing and shooting at the hell hound again.
Fingers slipping off of the demon’s muzzle, stopping her struggle to get free, Jess tried to reach for Jo, fingers shaking. “…I’m sorry…” she whispered.
“No!” Jo bolted as Jess abruptly slumped to the floor, the blood pool under her spreading.
Clutching Jess to her chest, Jo cupped her jaw, shaking as she sobbed. “No…”
Jess gurgled slightly, wanting to speak. She wanted to apologize again, she wanted to tell her that she loved her, she wanted another few words to give her lover before it was over and she was gone, but her lungs were filling with blood, and a bloody froth was bubbling out of her lips as she struggled to breathe.
“Don’t leave me,” Jo begged, gently.
Her hand lifted slightly, blood stained fingers trembling, then dropped again, and Jess went still in the other’s arms, eyes wide and unseeing.
“No,” Jo sobbed, clutching her closer, rocking back and forth. “No!”
----
I am here again
Tied up in your torture frame
Branded babies guilt to blame
The story stays the same
Pry me out
Run me down
Burn me up
Rake it in
Jess’ eyes fluttered open, confused for a moment.
It was dark. Darker than natural, darker than would - should - have been possible, and hotter than seemed bearable as sweat trickled slowly down her spine.
But she was lying on cold metal, so cold it burned.
Recognition made her gut sink, and bile rise in her throat. A familiar face appeared in her sights, and a familiar hated oily voice hissed, “So you’re come back for more, have you?”
Jess screamed, howling for a savior. It had happened once before…
No help came.
----
If there’s no one else beside you when your soul departs
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
Jo moved through the next week like a zombie.
Police had arrived about twenty minutes later, someone in the building having called them about the breaking glass and the screaming. They’d struggled to tug Jo’s fingers from their almost death like grip on the dead woman’s shoulders, but a Sherriff by the name of Ellen Harvelle that showed up a few minutes later convinced them to let her talk the girl down. As soon as she’d gotten them to head out to get coffee and let her ‘leave her space to work’, Ellen had hustled her daughter and Jess’ cooling body into the hastily painted ‘cop car’ that would never pass inspection.
It had taken some pretty drastic convincing from Ellen and Bobby both, but Jo had finally allowed them to lay Jess’ body on a carefully arranged wooden platform, tightly wrapped in a white sheet. Spreading salt over her body, the three of them had stood there, in silence, watching as the flames licked at the woman, consuming her finally.
The fire burned for over a day and a half, strong and bright til the end. When the flames finally died, Jo’s eyes were dry. She had no tears left.
It was Bobby who suggested the little ceremony.
Nothing fancy or elaborate, it still meant a lot when the grizzled hunter stood beside the ashes of what had once been the Roadhouse, reading from the Bible. Ellen had planted white lilies, to make a rough grave marker from the flowers and a large stone, and it was Jo who stepped into the ashes of her old home to scatter the ashes of her lover amongst them.
The next morning, Jo set out with a vengeance, and three days later, it was with great pleasure that she killed a hell hound that might or might not have been the one that killed Jess.
That didn’t matter, not really.
Being a hunter, thought… it was not a lifestyle designed for mourning. It was designed for action, frenetic motion. Grief slowed a person down, made them weak. Vulnerable.
Vulnerability was not something that Jo could afford.
So grief was pushed aside, and she threw herself headlong into fighting the good fight. Besides, things only seemed to get more complicated after Jess’ death - the Winchesters had managed to find the Colt, apparently, then lost it again - and apparently Dean had died the same night as Jess. He came back, four months later, and for a few days after she heard, Jo’s hope had spiked, but the other woman never surfaced.
Then apparently the apocalypse fell upon them, and demon activity shot through the roof, and Jo was forced to move on just so that she wasn’t killed.
But moving on didn’t mean that it wasn’t Jess who filled Jo’s thoughts as she sat on those dusty hardware store tiles.
Her stomach was bleeding, blood pouring over the fingers that she had pressed into her skin, trying to stem the flow, and failing. Her mother was beside her, calling her name and trying to call her back to her, but Jo’s mind was no longer on the woman who had birthed her, raised her, loved her. Tried - and failed, now, in the end - to protect her. Her mind was wandering, slipping past the here and now and into the future and what was coming next. She knew it probably wouldn’t be good, that it probably was not pearly gates that were waiting for her, but it was a nice thought anyway.
Maybe, when she got to hell, she’d get to see Jess.
Maybe.
Ellen was crying on her, holding her closer, and Jo fell into her, but couldn’t seem to muster the energy anymore to tell her that she was sorry, that she loved her, it was okay. The energy didn’t really seem to be there to blink, either, and finally she gave up trying, and just leaned into her, letting the darkness take over before abruptly there was light, bright bright bright light, and then nothing.
And Sing of Sweet Surrender.
Part Seventeen
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