Fic: Prisoner of Love (15/?)
MASTERPOST / AO3
Chapter Summary: Sam and Jo go back to California.
A/N: Again, thank you all for reading this far and thank you everyone who has left a review. In this chapter, there is one steamy shower scene between Sam and Jo, which is not entirely irrelevant but can be skipped if it's not your cup of tea. I just need an excuse to write some porn, and Dean and Cas are not giving me one.
~:~:~
"Sam, when are you going to call it a day? You've been studying those files for hours!" Jo whined.
After visiting Dean that afternoon, Sam and Jo caught the next flight to California. Since it was already late, they agreed to check themselves in a motel room following a quick dinner. Sam's nose hardly surfaced from the case files since he had left the penitentiary.
"Just a minute. There's got to be something," Sam answered without even looking up. His forehead furrowed deep in concentration. He was determined to find that magical something which could be Dean's passport to freedom. Something that linked Castiel's victims to these murders. If Castiel could find it, so could he. Partial prints were not strong evidence in court, so he had to find something else. But the crime scene was too clean. No, the crime scene was a mess, from an outsider's point of view, but it was a freakishly neat mess. There was hardly any forensic evidence left for the police to investigate.
"Look at these M.E. reports," Jo beckoned him over. In her hands were reports from the medical examiner on Castiel's parents' murder case, and the ones from the two people Cas killed. "They are creepily almost identical," she pointed out with a visible shudder.
Sam snatched the papers from her and studied them. She was right. The details from the two reports, even though issued from different labs, were practically the same. Sam couldn't help getting goose bumps. No one killer could ever leave the exact same marks in different victims. To be able to pull this, one must have access, knowledge and guts on the verge of psychotic. It was as if Castiel designed his victims' bodies to be the exact replicas of those of his parents, as if Castiel wanted the killers to have a taste of the same fate his parents did. Sam shuddered one more time at what kind of a man his brother had fallen for.
Then a fleeting thought hit his mind.
"What if that strand of hair wasn't a mistake? What if Castiel deliberately put it there so he himself could be caught?" To think one would accidentally leave an obvious trail in a crime scene that neat would be idiotic. After all, it was a hair that contained nuclear DNA: one which allowed the extraction of a complete DNA profile.
"How did they match Castiel's DNA?" Jo brought up a very interesting question. "He never was in the system. He didn't even have a rap sheet prior to this one."
Sam flipped open a file. "It says here that his was a near match to Anna Milton's, from the State of California's DNA database."
"Did it say how she got her DNA in the system?"
Sam looked at the file again and shook his head.
"Okay, good thing we're still in LA," said Jo, getting up. "I'm going to give an old friend from the LAPD a call; see if we can hit the local station first thing in the morning." She took out her phone and headed out of the room, but not before she turned and commanded strongly, "I expect you to be in bed when I return."
At which Sam could only give a weak smile.
~:~:~
"Sam!" Jo wailed, seeing Sam hadn't even moved from the same spot when she came back into the room.
"Just a minute," Sam quickly cut in, knowing where this conversation was going. Still, he didn't look up from the mess of papers on the table.
"You have to stop beating yourself up," Jo commented wearily. She started flipping the files close and tidying up the mess.
"Hey!" Sam cried in protest, opening again the files Jo had folded. "I'm not going to stop, okay? Not until I can get Dean out of that place."
"I know! But it doesn't mean you can't get yourself some rest," Jo fought back, "or live your own life."
"I'm not living my own life without him!" Sam retorted, but the flash of pain in Jo's eyes quickly deflated him.
It had always been an unspoken impasse in their relationship. People had been telling him to 'move on', especially after Dean refused to walk free when he had the chance. But what kind of a brother would he be if he let Dean rot in purgatory without doing his best to get him out? For this reason, his relationship with Jo never progressed. But even if she wanted it to, she never pushed.
"Jo, I'm sorry."
But Jo was already retreating to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower," she said, pointedly ignoring him.
Sam threw the papers on the desk, exasperated. He stood staring at the heave of white pages and black text as if they could give him the answer to the universe, or at least some answers to Dean's problems. But it didn't, Sam hesitantly accepted, as he put them back in their respective folders. Silence filled the room except the sound of water running. Jo kept her door open, as well as a chance for him to ask for forgiveness.
He stripped in haste and walked into the bathroom that was now hazy with steam. Quietly, he slipped in the shower and wrapped his arms around the delicate figure.
"Took you long enough," Jo remarked as she spun around and rested her head on Sam's chest.
"I'm sorry I was such a jerk," Sam apologized to her, running comforting touches up and down the slick curves of Jo's back. "It's just that seeing him today totally threw me off. I never saw him that fucked up. 'Looks like crap' doesn't even begin to cut it."
Sam pushed them beneath the shower head, ducking his head under the spray of water, letting it soak his hair and face. He never saw Dean so devastated. Heck, he rarely saw Dean break down. Dean Winchester did not break down in his book, not in front of his baby brother.
"We're going to help him, Sam. But you just can't rush things in the criminal justice system," Jo reassured him, turning them around so Sam's back was now blocking the jet of water, giving him much-needed refreshing ease. "And I might know a way or two to help you relieve your stress," she whispered as she slowly slid downwards, locking eyes with her boyfriend.
Sam easily pulled Jo up on her feet with a smirk. "You know nothing, Joanna Beth," he crooned before claiming her lips. Jo yelped in surprise but quickly threw her arms behind Sam's neck as he pulled their bodies flushed together. Sam moaned into the kiss while their tongues fought to devour the intensified lust. His large palms slid down to cup the roundness of her ass, squeezing and yanking her hips forward. Sam's hard-on scraped against her belly, demanding friction. She had to resist the urge to jump up and lock her legs around his waist. The bathtub was slippery and it could be hazardous.
Sam, however, slowly backed her towards the end of the tub and gingerly sat her down on the narrow deck at the foot of it. Jo hissed when the cool tile touched her skin.
A corner of Sam's lips curled into a crooked smile. He crouched between her parted legs, capturing her lips into another kiss. She quickly wrapped her arms around Sam, pulling him close, needing to feel his firm muscles crushed against hers again. But the angle was awkward; the only skin she could touch was via her calves that slid up and down the length of Sam's thighs.
"Sam," Jo pleaded, her voice broken, as she arched her back, begging for more physical contact.
"I got you," Sam bit and licked the lobe of her ear as he gave her promising words. Jo shivered and moaned prettily as warm breath ghosted over her sensitive skin.
Despite her tough façade, Jo was soft and sweet-smelling in all places. It drove Sam insane as he left trails of kisses along her neck and shoulders. His palms grazed over the small of her waist, so lean he could almost wrap it around with both hands. When Sam sunk his teeth under her collarbone, marking her, Jo groaned, nails digging into Sam's full biceps, leaving biting crescent bruises.
Then Sam cupped one of her breasts and gently kneaded it. This was Jo's favorite part; Sam's too, the way her perfect bust molded neatly into his palms, as if it was carved out from the same clay by the same master sculptor. Sam tasted the other breast with his lips, sucking round it in earnest.
"Oh, Sam," she whimpered, letting her head fall back against the wall. Jo arched her back, urging to get them sucked faster and deeper into the hot of his mouth. As his tongue twisted eagerly round and round the hardened nipple, she got more vocal and her thrusts more pressing. He moved to give both her breasts equal treatment. Jo's toes curled in excitement as she planted her feet to the sides of the tub, seeking some footing.
"Please," Jo begged between her moans and Sam's hungry suckles. She reached one hand between her legs, grabbing Sam's hard length and rubbing the head against her wet cunt.
"Fuck," Sam groaned, pushing himself a little away to breathe. Jo's beautiful cries of pleasure had made him so hard it was almost painful. But he didn't even yet start what he had intended to do, so he carefully removed Jo's hand and lowered his face until it was a hairbreadth away from her pussy. Sam looked up to meet Jo's eyes, making a show of inhaling the scent of her arousal.
"Sam, I swear to God-"
Jo's threat was cut short when Sam dived his nose into the soft wisp of her hair, his lips pressed in between her flesh and he tenderly sucked her clit into his mouth. Jo screamed unabashedly. Good thing their adjacent rooms were empty, though Sam was sure it could be heard through the end of the hall.
"Fuck, Sam!" Jo cussed, but if the hands that kept pushing his head down were any sign, she didn't want him to stop. Sam darted his tongue out, flicking it vigorously across her wet lips, crushing her clit with every stripe. Jo shook and moaned, long and breathless. Her hips bucked frantically as if she couldn't decide whether she should pull away and stop the overwhelming senses or shove them closer into Sam's face and trip herself over the edge.
It didn't matter, though, for Sam locked her in place as he increased his plunges, drinking down the juice that kept overflowing from her vagina. This was a much more pleasant way to relieve his tension. When a gorgeous girl was wriggling in amorous desire at his mercy, it felt as if he had the world under control. Knowing that at least he could make someone feel better, when he wanted to.
"Oh, God, Sam, I'm going to-" Jo didn't have a chance to finish her sentence as her whole body went tense and then trembled, waves of ecstasy pulsed through her muscles as she came. Sam took a moment to catch his breath and admire the lovely sight of a fucked-out Jo, before he rubbed his palms along her inner thighs and pushed her legs further apart.
"Holy fuck!" Jo shrieked when Sam's face disappeared between her crotch again. This time, his sneaky tongue slipped into her dripping hole. Jo thrashed wildly until Sam had to clasp her hips tight so they were leveled with his face. After that there was nothing else Jo could do except pant out a hearty moan as Sam savagely tongue-fucked her G-spot. The tip of his nose rubbed mercilessly against her clit. It didn't take long for Jo to come again, her pale skin reddened with feverish thrill.
Sam let her wind down this time. He gave himself a couple of pulls and came with low groans. Sitting back, leaning his head against the wall, he let the spray of cool water clean his body and calm his high. Not long after, Jo came straddling him, placing gentle kisses on his lips.
"You bastard," she said playfully, rinsing with water her wetness that still clung to his face. "Are you trying to kill me?"
Sam burst out a laugh. "What? You didn't enjoy it?"
Jo smiled in reply and bent down to kiss him again. "I can do this all night," she purred against his lips. "But we have a damsel to save and a police to visit tomorrow. Can't catch a cold now, can we?"
Sam reluctantly agreed. No matter how much he enjoyed his shower time with Jo, reality awaited. He turned the faucet off, giving Jo lingering kisses until the air became too chilly on their damp skin.
As they retired to bed that night, arms and legs tangling together, Sam thanked whatever Higher Power out there that allowed this calamity to happen, giving him a second chance to re-unite with Jo. He knew he couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend.
~:~:~
Turned out Jo's friend was a tech specialist in the Los Angeles Police Department, a petite red-haired girl that was too chirpy for Sam's liking.
"Hey, girl, good to see you again." Jo went up to embrace her old friend as soon as they stepped into the crime lab and was led to her work station.
"Hey yourself," the redhead grinned, kissing Jo on the cheeks. "Beautiful as always, JB," she said, giving Jo a once-over and licking her lips in gratification. Sam could only frown. When she finally noticed him, she nodded her approval. "I see you got yourself some beefcake."
Jo blushed furiously. "This is Sam, uh, my boyfriend. Sam, Charlie," she quickly introduced.
Charlie's eyes became bright with mischievous glints. She extended a hand that Sam tentatively took. "Charlie Bradbury," she said with purpose. And when she did not let go, Sam was obliged to return the greeting. "Sam Winchester," he said with a tight smile.
"Winchester, huh? That name does ring a bell," Charlie mumbled, more to herself. She frowned while the chipset of her brain ran through all the data in her hard drive. Sam and Jo could only exchange uneasy looks. "A-ha!" she then cried out, turning to slap Jo on the arm. "You finally get that guy you've been pining for! Way to go, lady!" she beamed excitedly.
Jo stiffened. She dared not turn to look Sam's way.
"That, uh," Sam cleared his throat. "That would be my brother."
A big O formed on the redhead's lips. She subtly turned back to her computer, a giant 'awkward' written across everyone's faces.
Jo slipped her hand into Sam's large one, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The corners of Sam's lips curled into an appreciative smile.
"So, Anna Milton," Charlie broke the uncomfortable silence, typing away on her computer. "According to the database, her DNA was entered into the system because she was a suspect in a breaking and entering case," the technician drove straight to the point. "There was a break-in to a jewelry store next to her restaurant. The point of entry was through an air duct that connected their shops. Police found locks of red hair trapped in there, so they requested her DNA sample. It didn't match, by the way, but she didn't request for the profile to be removed so it was still in the system."
"Did they catch the bad guy?" Jo asked.
"Oh, for that I need to access the case file. Give me a min," Charlie said, again typing away on her keyboard. "Here we go. Looks like… no. They didn't catch the bad guy, or girl," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"Okay, so Castiel knows that his sister's DNA is in the system," Sam said. "That's why he left his hair and not his fingerprints, because those cannot be connected to him."
"But why would he want to be caught?"
"I don't know. Guilty conscience?" Sam raised a brow. "Maybe he was done with his revenge and decided to turn himself in? It's not unheard of."
A ringing noise interrupted their conversation. Sam looked at his phone's caller ID. "Sorry, I need to take this," he excused himself.
"Dean, what's going on?" Jo heard Sam say into the phone. "You what? … Alright, Dean, calm down. I'll take care of it… Would you calm the fuck down? … I need to hang up. I need to call Ellen. You call me back later, okay? … Dean, we got this. Don't worry. … I said don't fucking worry!"
Jo knew something bad had happened. Sam never cursed over the phone unless some real shit was going down. True to her words, Sam returned, panic unmistakable on his face.
"Jo, we have a problem."
~:~:~
When the door swung open, Sam immediately put on his professional friendly grin despite the fact that he and Jo had been driving their rental car in a strained, uncomfortable silence the whole of their one-hour drive to Castiel's cabin home.
"It's you again," the corpulent lady muttered when she saw who her guests were.
"Good morning, Missouri," Sam greeted, ignoring the nearly unwelcome reception. "We come bearing some good news. May we come in?"
Missouri seemed to weigh her option for a second, but eventually stepped aside to let the detectives in.
"Can I get you anything to drink? Tea?" she offered, wandering off towards the back of the house.
Sam and Jo exchanged looks. "Just water would be fine," Jo hollered in reply.
They sat themselves on the couch. Minutes later, Missouri came back with a tray in her hands, holding glasses of water and juice and a plate of biscuits. Her husband followed at her heels.
"So what brings you here?" she said as she placed the tray down on the coffee table and sat on the adjacent chair. Rufus remained standing nearby. Sam quickly grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down, suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of finally getting something to help Dean out.
"We have new information on Mr. and Mrs. Milton's murder case," Jo piped in, saving Sam's ass. "We might be able to identify the killers."
That seemed to pique Missouri's interest. Rufus shifted on his feet. "And who might that be?"
Jo raised a finger in the air, stopping the lady from speaking any further. "We have found six other cases with the same M.O. We discovered evidence that led us to believe the suspects for these six cases are the same people," Jo paused, observing Missouri's expression while Sam did Rufus, "and that they were the people Castiel murdered."
Missouri suddenly let out an audible gasp. She caught herself on the arms of the chair as if she was about to faint. Rufus had to hold her by the sides.
"Look, we want to help Castiel," Sam cut in when the silence dragged on for too long. "He has this information that prosecutors want. It could close six cold cases. He could use it to negotiate his terms, maybe get less time served or a move to a facility with lesser security restrictions, or both."
"But why," Missouri wheezed, not understanding. "Why are you helping him?"
Sam and Jo exchanged looks again, until finally Sam let out a long sigh, and blurted, "My brother asked me to do it. He shares the same cell as Castiel's."
Missouri looked taken aback, but quickly composed herself. "What can we help you with?"
Jo made her request, "Can we take a look at his room?"
"No!" Rufus retorted firmly. Missouri gawked at her husband.
"You said you had arranged for his things to be kept here," Jo carefully continued. "If we could go through his things and find out how he found a connection to it-"
"His things are off-limits." Rufus straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating pose. "Either you come back with a search warrant or don't come back at all."
"Rufus!" His wife reproved him.
Just then Jo's phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and excused herself. "I need to take this," she said, getting up and heading to the door. "Agent Harvelle," she spoke into the phone, but Sam wasn't sure if she was stating her name or greeting the other agent on the other end of the line. He excused himself to the hosts and quickly followed Jo outside.
"They managed to postpone Dean's transfer for two weeks," Jo told him after she hung up. So it was Ellen she was speaking to.
"What the hell in two weeks?" Sam cried in disbelief. "Why was he being transferred at all?" He thought Ellen had everything at her command, that Dean was protected and well taken care of, that they were invincible.
"It was complicated," Jo replied with an exhausted sigh. "At least we bought some time, okay? While my mom tries to find a way to help him. They should come up with something by then."
But what if they didn't? Sam thought frantically. What if they couldn't revoke the request and Dean had to be transferred to another prison? He wouldn't worry too much if it was just Dean. But Sam knew his brother would claw at his cellmate for dear life. 'I won't leave without him,' Dean's words still rang in his ears.
"What about Castiel? Can we move him, too?" Sam asked hopefully.
Jo shook her head. "We can't. Castiel is beyond our reach."
There went his chance of saving Dean, Sam thought with anger and regret. It was as if he was the only one who cared, the only person who ran around like a maniac, fighting for Dean's escape while everyone else refused to do even their slightest bit.
Sam stomped back into the house, throwing fists into the air as his temper flared. "Do you fucking care about Castiel at all?" Sam bawled at the two housekeepers, making them jump. "You said you raised Castiel as a son, but do you fucking care how he is treated in prison? Have you ever visited him?"
"Castiel told us not to-"
"He was raped! Repeatedly! If it weren't for my brother who is in there, protecting him, Castiel would have had every dick in there shoved up his ass by now!"
"Sam, stop!" Jo raised her voice, struggling to push the gigantic wall of Sam's body out of the house.
"Well, good news!" Sam shouted over Jo's head, his face flaming red. "My brother will be transferred shortly. After that Castiel will be on his own, among rapists and murderers. Let's see how long he'll last!"
Jo shoved at the colossal mass of her boyfriend until his ass landed on the ground, at the first step of the porch in front of the Miltons' house. "What the hell, Sam?" she barked. "How is what you did going to help Castiel? Or Dean!"
She was beside herself with matching fury, but Sam now collapsed into a fit of desperation. "We will never be able to help him. We will never be able to get Dean out. I could never get Dean out."
Jo softened seeing her boyfriend break down in tears. After all, she knew how much it meant to him, how much Sam wanted to repay Dean for his sacrifices, how much he wanted his brother back by his side. She knelt down and held him in her arms. "We'll think of something, Sam. We'll get him out."
"BUT HE'S MY BABY, TOO!"
They both startled at the yelling and slamming of doors. Rufus and Missouri were now fighting on the porch. It looked like Missouri was trying to approach them while her husband tried to hold her back.
"Castiel has given us strict orders!" Rufus hissed, grabbing his wife by the arm.
"To hell with it!" she bellowed, jerking her arm away. "I'll be damned if I stand aside and let them hurt my baby. You should be ashamed of yourself, you old mutt!"
"You could at least respect his wishes!" the old man snapped back.
Missouri bent down to the two visitors, who were still shocked at the scene. "There's something I need to tell you," she said calmly.
"Don't do this to him," Rufus groaned weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat.
"The night that Castiel claimed to murder those two guys," Missouri began unfolding her side of the story. "He was actually here, with us, in this house."
~:~:~
"WINCHESTER!"
Crowley screamed at the top of his lungs, hauling the telephone receiver into the wall. The black apparatus was smashed into tiny pieces. The burst of volcanic wrath incurred from hearing from the State Penitentiary that they could not accept the transferring prisoner at their previously arranged date.
"You think you could override my order?" he hissed in disgust. "I. AM. THE KING OF HELL! I CHOOSE WHO LIVES OR DIES!"
His whole body quivered with rage. His forehead broke in sweat as his devilish mind raced to find new schemes to get back at Dean; to show everyone the consequences of defying the Dark Overlord.
When a Eureka moment hit, he hungrily grabbed it. The warden harshly pulled open a cabinet, leafing through files of their current inmates. Finally, a name caught his eyes. He pulled out the file, studying it with an evil grin.
"Meet Ricky Cortez, murderer, sex offender with multiple assaults. Hmph," Crowley hummed lightly. Cortez was not so smart, but he was violent, and perpetually horny, and he hated Dean with every fiber of his being. He was now in solitary confinement as a result of a recent attack he made on his cellmate.
"Susan!" he yelled, getting irritated again now that he had no phone to use and so had to shout.
His personal assistant stumbled into the room with a startling look on her face. She had heard all his previous outbursts and had prayed to every god in existence that she wouldn't have to face it.
Crowley tossed the file across his desk. "Get Cortez out of the shoe box and get Milton in the same cell with him."
Her voice was shaken when she interjected, "But Warden-"
"TODAY!" Crowley roared. If one more person thought they could challenge him, the fire of fury was sure as hell going to rain down this hellhole, and he would know. "Or I'll bloody put you in his cell AND EVERY DAMN CELL IN THIS FUCKING BUILDING!"
~:~:~
A/N: Sorry, the boys will be back in action (and lots of it) in the next chapter.
There's this one question that has been nagging me for months now, so I think I'll just ask and get it over with. I know many readers are particular about bed scenes. So, as a reader of this fic, would it freak you out if there's a bottom!Dean scene? Or would it freak you out if there's a bottom!Cas scene? Feel free to give your honest opinion, though I can't promise it will change anything. :)
Chapter Summary: Sam and Jo go back to California.
A/N: Again, thank you all for reading this far and thank you everyone who has left a review. In this chapter, there is one steamy shower scene between Sam and Jo, which is not entirely irrelevant but can be skipped if it's not your cup of tea. I just need an excuse to write some porn, and Dean and Cas are not giving me one.
~:~:~
"Sam, when are you going to call it a day? You've been studying those files for hours!" Jo whined.
After visiting Dean that afternoon, Sam and Jo caught the next flight to California. Since it was already late, they agreed to check themselves in a motel room following a quick dinner. Sam's nose hardly surfaced from the case files since he had left the penitentiary.
"Just a minute. There's got to be something," Sam answered without even looking up. His forehead furrowed deep in concentration. He was determined to find that magical something which could be Dean's passport to freedom. Something that linked Castiel's victims to these murders. If Castiel could find it, so could he. Partial prints were not strong evidence in court, so he had to find something else. But the crime scene was too clean. No, the crime scene was a mess, from an outsider's point of view, but it was a freakishly neat mess. There was hardly any forensic evidence left for the police to investigate.
"Look at these M.E. reports," Jo beckoned him over. In her hands were reports from the medical examiner on Castiel's parents' murder case, and the ones from the two people Cas killed. "They are creepily almost identical," she pointed out with a visible shudder.
Sam snatched the papers from her and studied them. She was right. The details from the two reports, even though issued from different labs, were practically the same. Sam couldn't help getting goose bumps. No one killer could ever leave the exact same marks in different victims. To be able to pull this, one must have access, knowledge and guts on the verge of psychotic. It was as if Castiel designed his victims' bodies to be the exact replicas of those of his parents, as if Castiel wanted the killers to have a taste of the same fate his parents did. Sam shuddered one more time at what kind of a man his brother had fallen for.
Then a fleeting thought hit his mind.
"What if that strand of hair wasn't a mistake? What if Castiel deliberately put it there so he himself could be caught?" To think one would accidentally leave an obvious trail in a crime scene that neat would be idiotic. After all, it was a hair that contained nuclear DNA: one which allowed the extraction of a complete DNA profile.
"How did they match Castiel's DNA?" Jo brought up a very interesting question. "He never was in the system. He didn't even have a rap sheet prior to this one."
Sam flipped open a file. "It says here that his was a near match to Anna Milton's, from the State of California's DNA database."
"Did it say how she got her DNA in the system?"
Sam looked at the file again and shook his head.
"Okay, good thing we're still in LA," said Jo, getting up. "I'm going to give an old friend from the LAPD a call; see if we can hit the local station first thing in the morning." She took out her phone and headed out of the room, but not before she turned and commanded strongly, "I expect you to be in bed when I return."
At which Sam could only give a weak smile.
~:~:~
"Sam!" Jo wailed, seeing Sam hadn't even moved from the same spot when she came back into the room.
"Just a minute," Sam quickly cut in, knowing where this conversation was going. Still, he didn't look up from the mess of papers on the table.
"You have to stop beating yourself up," Jo commented wearily. She started flipping the files close and tidying up the mess.
"Hey!" Sam cried in protest, opening again the files Jo had folded. "I'm not going to stop, okay? Not until I can get Dean out of that place."
"I know! But it doesn't mean you can't get yourself some rest," Jo fought back, "or live your own life."
"I'm not living my own life without him!" Sam retorted, but the flash of pain in Jo's eyes quickly deflated him.
It had always been an unspoken impasse in their relationship. People had been telling him to 'move on', especially after Dean refused to walk free when he had the chance. But what kind of a brother would he be if he let Dean rot in purgatory without doing his best to get him out? For this reason, his relationship with Jo never progressed. But even if she wanted it to, she never pushed.
"Jo, I'm sorry."
But Jo was already retreating to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower," she said, pointedly ignoring him.
Sam threw the papers on the desk, exasperated. He stood staring at the heave of white pages and black text as if they could give him the answer to the universe, or at least some answers to Dean's problems. But it didn't, Sam hesitantly accepted, as he put them back in their respective folders. Silence filled the room except the sound of water running. Jo kept her door open, as well as a chance for him to ask for forgiveness.
He stripped in haste and walked into the bathroom that was now hazy with steam. Quietly, he slipped in the shower and wrapped his arms around the delicate figure.
"Took you long enough," Jo remarked as she spun around and rested her head on Sam's chest.
"I'm sorry I was such a jerk," Sam apologized to her, running comforting touches up and down the slick curves of Jo's back. "It's just that seeing him today totally threw me off. I never saw him that fucked up. 'Looks like crap' doesn't even begin to cut it."
Sam pushed them beneath the shower head, ducking his head under the spray of water, letting it soak his hair and face. He never saw Dean so devastated. Heck, he rarely saw Dean break down. Dean Winchester did not break down in his book, not in front of his baby brother.
"We're going to help him, Sam. But you just can't rush things in the criminal justice system," Jo reassured him, turning them around so Sam's back was now blocking the jet of water, giving him much-needed refreshing ease. "And I might know a way or two to help you relieve your stress," she whispered as she slowly slid downwards, locking eyes with her boyfriend.
Sam easily pulled Jo up on her feet with a smirk. "You know nothing, Joanna Beth," he crooned before claiming her lips. Jo yelped in surprise but quickly threw her arms behind Sam's neck as he pulled their bodies flushed together. Sam moaned into the kiss while their tongues fought to devour the intensified lust. His large palms slid down to cup the roundness of her ass, squeezing and yanking her hips forward. Sam's hard-on scraped against her belly, demanding friction. She had to resist the urge to jump up and lock her legs around his waist. The bathtub was slippery and it could be hazardous.
Sam, however, slowly backed her towards the end of the tub and gingerly sat her down on the narrow deck at the foot of it. Jo hissed when the cool tile touched her skin.
A corner of Sam's lips curled into a crooked smile. He crouched between her parted legs, capturing her lips into another kiss. She quickly wrapped her arms around Sam, pulling him close, needing to feel his firm muscles crushed against hers again. But the angle was awkward; the only skin she could touch was via her calves that slid up and down the length of Sam's thighs.
"Sam," Jo pleaded, her voice broken, as she arched her back, begging for more physical contact.
"I got you," Sam bit and licked the lobe of her ear as he gave her promising words. Jo shivered and moaned prettily as warm breath ghosted over her sensitive skin.
Despite her tough façade, Jo was soft and sweet-smelling in all places. It drove Sam insane as he left trails of kisses along her neck and shoulders. His palms grazed over the small of her waist, so lean he could almost wrap it around with both hands. When Sam sunk his teeth under her collarbone, marking her, Jo groaned, nails digging into Sam's full biceps, leaving biting crescent bruises.
Then Sam cupped one of her breasts and gently kneaded it. This was Jo's favorite part; Sam's too, the way her perfect bust molded neatly into his palms, as if it was carved out from the same clay by the same master sculptor. Sam tasted the other breast with his lips, sucking round it in earnest.
"Oh, Sam," she whimpered, letting her head fall back against the wall. Jo arched her back, urging to get them sucked faster and deeper into the hot of his mouth. As his tongue twisted eagerly round and round the hardened nipple, she got more vocal and her thrusts more pressing. He moved to give both her breasts equal treatment. Jo's toes curled in excitement as she planted her feet to the sides of the tub, seeking some footing.
"Please," Jo begged between her moans and Sam's hungry suckles. She reached one hand between her legs, grabbing Sam's hard length and rubbing the head against her wet cunt.
"Fuck," Sam groaned, pushing himself a little away to breathe. Jo's beautiful cries of pleasure had made him so hard it was almost painful. But he didn't even yet start what he had intended to do, so he carefully removed Jo's hand and lowered his face until it was a hairbreadth away from her pussy. Sam looked up to meet Jo's eyes, making a show of inhaling the scent of her arousal.
"Sam, I swear to God-"
Jo's threat was cut short when Sam dived his nose into the soft wisp of her hair, his lips pressed in between her flesh and he tenderly sucked her clit into his mouth. Jo screamed unabashedly. Good thing their adjacent rooms were empty, though Sam was sure it could be heard through the end of the hall.
"Fuck, Sam!" Jo cussed, but if the hands that kept pushing his head down were any sign, she didn't want him to stop. Sam darted his tongue out, flicking it vigorously across her wet lips, crushing her clit with every stripe. Jo shook and moaned, long and breathless. Her hips bucked frantically as if she couldn't decide whether she should pull away and stop the overwhelming senses or shove them closer into Sam's face and trip herself over the edge.
It didn't matter, though, for Sam locked her in place as he increased his plunges, drinking down the juice that kept overflowing from her vagina. This was a much more pleasant way to relieve his tension. When a gorgeous girl was wriggling in amorous desire at his mercy, it felt as if he had the world under control. Knowing that at least he could make someone feel better, when he wanted to.
"Oh, God, Sam, I'm going to-" Jo didn't have a chance to finish her sentence as her whole body went tense and then trembled, waves of ecstasy pulsed through her muscles as she came. Sam took a moment to catch his breath and admire the lovely sight of a fucked-out Jo, before he rubbed his palms along her inner thighs and pushed her legs further apart.
"Holy fuck!" Jo shrieked when Sam's face disappeared between her crotch again. This time, his sneaky tongue slipped into her dripping hole. Jo thrashed wildly until Sam had to clasp her hips tight so they were leveled with his face. After that there was nothing else Jo could do except pant out a hearty moan as Sam savagely tongue-fucked her G-spot. The tip of his nose rubbed mercilessly against her clit. It didn't take long for Jo to come again, her pale skin reddened with feverish thrill.
Sam let her wind down this time. He gave himself a couple of pulls and came with low groans. Sitting back, leaning his head against the wall, he let the spray of cool water clean his body and calm his high. Not long after, Jo came straddling him, placing gentle kisses on his lips.
"You bastard," she said playfully, rinsing with water her wetness that still clung to his face. "Are you trying to kill me?"
Sam burst out a laugh. "What? You didn't enjoy it?"
Jo smiled in reply and bent down to kiss him again. "I can do this all night," she purred against his lips. "But we have a damsel to save and a police to visit tomorrow. Can't catch a cold now, can we?"
Sam reluctantly agreed. No matter how much he enjoyed his shower time with Jo, reality awaited. He turned the faucet off, giving Jo lingering kisses until the air became too chilly on their damp skin.
As they retired to bed that night, arms and legs tangling together, Sam thanked whatever Higher Power out there that allowed this calamity to happen, giving him a second chance to re-unite with Jo. He knew he couldn't have asked for a better girlfriend.
~:~:~
Turned out Jo's friend was a tech specialist in the Los Angeles Police Department, a petite red-haired girl that was too chirpy for Sam's liking.
"Hey, girl, good to see you again." Jo went up to embrace her old friend as soon as they stepped into the crime lab and was led to her work station.
"Hey yourself," the redhead grinned, kissing Jo on the cheeks. "Beautiful as always, JB," she said, giving Jo a once-over and licking her lips in gratification. Sam could only frown. When she finally noticed him, she nodded her approval. "I see you got yourself some beefcake."
Jo blushed furiously. "This is Sam, uh, my boyfriend. Sam, Charlie," she quickly introduced.
Charlie's eyes became bright with mischievous glints. She extended a hand that Sam tentatively took. "Charlie Bradbury," she said with purpose. And when she did not let go, Sam was obliged to return the greeting. "Sam Winchester," he said with a tight smile.
"Winchester, huh? That name does ring a bell," Charlie mumbled, more to herself. She frowned while the chipset of her brain ran through all the data in her hard drive. Sam and Jo could only exchange uneasy looks. "A-ha!" she then cried out, turning to slap Jo on the arm. "You finally get that guy you've been pining for! Way to go, lady!" she beamed excitedly.
Jo stiffened. She dared not turn to look Sam's way.
"That, uh," Sam cleared his throat. "That would be my brother."
A big O formed on the redhead's lips. She subtly turned back to her computer, a giant 'awkward' written across everyone's faces.
Jo slipped her hand into Sam's large one, giving it a reassuring squeeze. The corners of Sam's lips curled into an appreciative smile.
"So, Anna Milton," Charlie broke the uncomfortable silence, typing away on her computer. "According to the database, her DNA was entered into the system because she was a suspect in a breaking and entering case," the technician drove straight to the point. "There was a break-in to a jewelry store next to her restaurant. The point of entry was through an air duct that connected their shops. Police found locks of red hair trapped in there, so they requested her DNA sample. It didn't match, by the way, but she didn't request for the profile to be removed so it was still in the system."
"Did they catch the bad guy?" Jo asked.
"Oh, for that I need to access the case file. Give me a min," Charlie said, again typing away on her keyboard. "Here we go. Looks like… no. They didn't catch the bad guy, or girl," she said with a roll of her eyes.
"Okay, so Castiel knows that his sister's DNA is in the system," Sam said. "That's why he left his hair and not his fingerprints, because those cannot be connected to him."
"But why would he want to be caught?"
"I don't know. Guilty conscience?" Sam raised a brow. "Maybe he was done with his revenge and decided to turn himself in? It's not unheard of."
A ringing noise interrupted their conversation. Sam looked at his phone's caller ID. "Sorry, I need to take this," he excused himself.
"Dean, what's going on?" Jo heard Sam say into the phone. "You what? … Alright, Dean, calm down. I'll take care of it… Would you calm the fuck down? … I need to hang up. I need to call Ellen. You call me back later, okay? … Dean, we got this. Don't worry. … I said don't fucking worry!"
Jo knew something bad had happened. Sam never cursed over the phone unless some real shit was going down. True to her words, Sam returned, panic unmistakable on his face.
"Jo, we have a problem."
~:~:~
When the door swung open, Sam immediately put on his professional friendly grin despite the fact that he and Jo had been driving their rental car in a strained, uncomfortable silence the whole of their one-hour drive to Castiel's cabin home.
"It's you again," the corpulent lady muttered when she saw who her guests were.
"Good morning, Missouri," Sam greeted, ignoring the nearly unwelcome reception. "We come bearing some good news. May we come in?"
Missouri seemed to weigh her option for a second, but eventually stepped aside to let the detectives in.
"Can I get you anything to drink? Tea?" she offered, wandering off towards the back of the house.
Sam and Jo exchanged looks. "Just water would be fine," Jo hollered in reply.
They sat themselves on the couch. Minutes later, Missouri came back with a tray in her hands, holding glasses of water and juice and a plate of biscuits. Her husband followed at her heels.
"So what brings you here?" she said as she placed the tray down on the coffee table and sat on the adjacent chair. Rufus remained standing nearby. Sam quickly grabbed a glass of water and gulped it down, suddenly feeling nervous at the prospect of finally getting something to help Dean out.
"We have new information on Mr. and Mrs. Milton's murder case," Jo piped in, saving Sam's ass. "We might be able to identify the killers."
That seemed to pique Missouri's interest. Rufus shifted on his feet. "And who might that be?"
Jo raised a finger in the air, stopping the lady from speaking any further. "We have found six other cases with the same M.O. We discovered evidence that led us to believe the suspects for these six cases are the same people," Jo paused, observing Missouri's expression while Sam did Rufus, "and that they were the people Castiel murdered."
Missouri suddenly let out an audible gasp. She caught herself on the arms of the chair as if she was about to faint. Rufus had to hold her by the sides.
"Look, we want to help Castiel," Sam cut in when the silence dragged on for too long. "He has this information that prosecutors want. It could close six cold cases. He could use it to negotiate his terms, maybe get less time served or a move to a facility with lesser security restrictions, or both."
"But why," Missouri wheezed, not understanding. "Why are you helping him?"
Sam and Jo exchanged looks again, until finally Sam let out a long sigh, and blurted, "My brother asked me to do it. He shares the same cell as Castiel's."
Missouri looked taken aback, but quickly composed herself. "What can we help you with?"
Jo made her request, "Can we take a look at his room?"
"No!" Rufus retorted firmly. Missouri gawked at her husband.
"You said you had arranged for his things to be kept here," Jo carefully continued. "If we could go through his things and find out how he found a connection to it-"
"His things are off-limits." Rufus straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest in an intimidating pose. "Either you come back with a search warrant or don't come back at all."
"Rufus!" His wife reproved him.
Just then Jo's phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and excused herself. "I need to take this," she said, getting up and heading to the door. "Agent Harvelle," she spoke into the phone, but Sam wasn't sure if she was stating her name or greeting the other agent on the other end of the line. He excused himself to the hosts and quickly followed Jo outside.
"They managed to postpone Dean's transfer for two weeks," Jo told him after she hung up. So it was Ellen she was speaking to.
"What the hell in two weeks?" Sam cried in disbelief. "Why was he being transferred at all?" He thought Ellen had everything at her command, that Dean was protected and well taken care of, that they were invincible.
"It was complicated," Jo replied with an exhausted sigh. "At least we bought some time, okay? While my mom tries to find a way to help him. They should come up with something by then."
But what if they didn't? Sam thought frantically. What if they couldn't revoke the request and Dean had to be transferred to another prison? He wouldn't worry too much if it was just Dean. But Sam knew his brother would claw at his cellmate for dear life. 'I won't leave without him,' Dean's words still rang in his ears.
"What about Castiel? Can we move him, too?" Sam asked hopefully.
Jo shook her head. "We can't. Castiel is beyond our reach."
There went his chance of saving Dean, Sam thought with anger and regret. It was as if he was the only one who cared, the only person who ran around like a maniac, fighting for Dean's escape while everyone else refused to do even their slightest bit.
Sam stomped back into the house, throwing fists into the air as his temper flared. "Do you fucking care about Castiel at all?" Sam bawled at the two housekeepers, making them jump. "You said you raised Castiel as a son, but do you fucking care how he is treated in prison? Have you ever visited him?"
"Castiel told us not to-"
"He was raped! Repeatedly! If it weren't for my brother who is in there, protecting him, Castiel would have had every dick in there shoved up his ass by now!"
"Sam, stop!" Jo raised her voice, struggling to push the gigantic wall of Sam's body out of the house.
"Well, good news!" Sam shouted over Jo's head, his face flaming red. "My brother will be transferred shortly. After that Castiel will be on his own, among rapists and murderers. Let's see how long he'll last!"
Jo shoved at the colossal mass of her boyfriend until his ass landed on the ground, at the first step of the porch in front of the Miltons' house. "What the hell, Sam?" she barked. "How is what you did going to help Castiel? Or Dean!"
She was beside herself with matching fury, but Sam now collapsed into a fit of desperation. "We will never be able to help him. We will never be able to get Dean out. I could never get Dean out."
Jo softened seeing her boyfriend break down in tears. After all, she knew how much it meant to him, how much Sam wanted to repay Dean for his sacrifices, how much he wanted his brother back by his side. She knelt down and held him in her arms. "We'll think of something, Sam. We'll get him out."
"BUT HE'S MY BABY, TOO!"
They both startled at the yelling and slamming of doors. Rufus and Missouri were now fighting on the porch. It looked like Missouri was trying to approach them while her husband tried to hold her back.
"Castiel has given us strict orders!" Rufus hissed, grabbing his wife by the arm.
"To hell with it!" she bellowed, jerking her arm away. "I'll be damned if I stand aside and let them hurt my baby. You should be ashamed of yourself, you old mutt!"
"You could at least respect his wishes!" the old man snapped back.
Missouri bent down to the two visitors, who were still shocked at the scene. "There's something I need to tell you," she said calmly.
"Don't do this to him," Rufus groaned weakly, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat.
"The night that Castiel claimed to murder those two guys," Missouri began unfolding her side of the story. "He was actually here, with us, in this house."
~:~:~
"WINCHESTER!"
Crowley screamed at the top of his lungs, hauling the telephone receiver into the wall. The black apparatus was smashed into tiny pieces. The burst of volcanic wrath incurred from hearing from the State Penitentiary that they could not accept the transferring prisoner at their previously arranged date.
"You think you could override my order?" he hissed in disgust. "I. AM. THE KING OF HELL! I CHOOSE WHO LIVES OR DIES!"
His whole body quivered with rage. His forehead broke in sweat as his devilish mind raced to find new schemes to get back at Dean; to show everyone the consequences of defying the Dark Overlord.
When a Eureka moment hit, he hungrily grabbed it. The warden harshly pulled open a cabinet, leafing through files of their current inmates. Finally, a name caught his eyes. He pulled out the file, studying it with an evil grin.
"Meet Ricky Cortez, murderer, sex offender with multiple assaults. Hmph," Crowley hummed lightly. Cortez was not so smart, but he was violent, and perpetually horny, and he hated Dean with every fiber of his being. He was now in solitary confinement as a result of a recent attack he made on his cellmate.
"Susan!" he yelled, getting irritated again now that he had no phone to use and so had to shout.
His personal assistant stumbled into the room with a startling look on her face. She had heard all his previous outbursts and had prayed to every god in existence that she wouldn't have to face it.
Crowley tossed the file across his desk. "Get Cortez out of the shoe box and get Milton in the same cell with him."
Her voice was shaken when she interjected, "But Warden-"
"TODAY!" Crowley roared. If one more person thought they could challenge him, the fire of fury was sure as hell going to rain down this hellhole, and he would know. "Or I'll bloody put you in his cell AND EVERY DAMN CELL IN THIS FUCKING BUILDING!"
~:~:~
A/N: Sorry, the boys will be back in action (and lots of it) in the next chapter.
There's this one question that has been nagging me for months now, so I think I'll just ask and get it over with. I know many readers are particular about bed scenes. So, as a reader of this fic, would it freak you out if there's a bottom!Dean scene? Or would it freak you out if there's a bottom!Cas scene? Feel free to give your honest opinion, though I can't promise it will change anything. :)