Reached right into my head
So I woke up in the early hours of this morning after a disturbing dream. I tried to analyse the dream, but soon gave up and in trying to get back to sleep, also started to think about ideas for a new fic and the two just collided. Title and cut from Be Mine by David Gray (yes, it seems my dreams have soundtracks).
Title : Reached right into my head
Author : Joans23
Rating : R
Paring : Jo with brief mentions of John, Dean and Sam.
Prompt : Jo’s dream in a post-apocalypic AU
Jo’s standing on the side of the road in her shorts and a t-shirt with three other nearly identical blond girls and she knows she’s dreaming. Slowly she turns in a circle, taking in the barren landscape. Nothing but dust blowing in the wind for miles and miles. Hasn’t been anything green around since Sam… A black van pulls up and she opens her mouth to ask where it came from. Just shut up and get in. You don’t want to piss off John Winchester. She starts to move towards the door that’s sliding open, but now there’s a fence of barbed wires in the way. One after the other the girls gracefully slide between the wires and into the van. But she can’t. She knows she can’t do it without getting stuck. Stands there for a moment letting the panic settle low in her belly, then bends down to crawl through. The barbs nick her clothes, take drops of blood from her skin. She feels her hair getting tangled in it and she knows she’s failed already, before she’d even properly begun. Then a boot appears out of nowhere, stepping on the wires, making the space bigger for her to get through. Shame burns
her eyes as they adjust to the dark when she finally settles inside. They pull away in silence, but it’s not long before he starts asking the others questions. About their skills, their commitment. Not her though. It’s been quiet for a couple of miles when he finally speaks to her, asks her opinion on an upcoming operation, but the other girls start to excitedly give their answers and she can’t be heard above their frantic hysterical voices. Once again panic starts to rise, but then she meets his eyes in the rearview mirror, calmly looking at her, waiting for her response. So she softly tells it to his reflection and by the way he smiles and nods at her, she knows he heard. Her heart swells with pride and accomplishment. He offloads them at the compound and she starts walking towards her office, loving the heavy weight of the boots on her feet, the harsh scratch of her uniform against her skin. She belongs here. She was born for this. The feeling of responsibility and purpose fills her as she walks. Her cell phone
rings. For a moment she’s confused, she didn’t even know she had one. The caller ID says DEAN and she almost throws the phone away, like it was a coiled snake in her hand. She hesitantly answers it and he says Hi Jo like they have been friends forever. Apparently they are as their casual conversation falls into a familiar rhythm with him asking about her job, asking for advice about his love life. She ends up enjoying the conversation she so desperately feared just a moment ago and is genuinely disappointed when she has to hang up. Arriving at her office
she is suddenly on full alert when she finds the door open. She knows she locked it. She finds two new recruits sitting at the spare desk, doing paperwork. She wants to throw them out, this is her space, but she can’t. Instead she just gathers her things to go home. This brings a smile to her face. She has the truck all to herself this afternoon. They’ll have to find other rides for the people she normally picked up. She’s going to be coming in earlier from now on and leaving much later. She drops everything in the back
and notices there are people still working on rebuilding the old boarding school where the new recruits will be staying. She starts walking towards them with a heavy sigh. She’s tired and she wants to go home, but this is her responsibility now, she has to check on them. She’s appalled at the conditions inside, everything black with filth and decay. She rounds up the workers, telling them what is expected, how to get it done to John’s standards. The man is such a bastard to work for most of the time, but one look from him on a job well done and you would happily lay down your life for him. She can’t decide whether she hates or just despises him. She only knows she would rather die than disappoint him. Walking out
onto the promenade, the wind lifts her nightgown, blowing it up to just below her hips and from far away comes a voice telling her the dream is almost over. She loves the feel of the fabric billowing around her, the wind just cool enough on her skin, whipping her hair against her face as the hot asphalt scorches her bare feet from below. She can almost feel the fabric of her pillow against her cheek when
she catches movement out of the corner of her eye. She pulls down her dress, suddenly shy and ashamed at her wanton behavior. She doesn’t know who’s there, but she can feel his eyes on her, claiming her. She just needs to get to her truck and everything will be fine. Then she remembers … her keys are in her jacket’s pocket. The jacket she put in the back of the truck. Vaguely she wonders when this turned into a nightmare. Keeping an eye on where she though he was, she edges towards the corner. She’ll have to be fast if she wants to make it. She becomes aware of a familiar heavy weight resting comfortably in her right hand and she’s not surprised when she raises the handgun to her face. When she rounds the corner, there are three men standing right there behind her truck. For an instant, they seem even more surprised than she is and while they are lifting their guns, she puts three bullets in them.
BAM. BAM. BAM. She throws the sticky blankets off of her and lies listening to her ragged breathing until it evens out into sleep again.
And that’s how it ends, ‘cause that’s when I woke up. I’m sorry if it doesn’t make any sense, I just had to get it out of my system :)