Those Who Favor Fire, for joans23 (Sam/Jo, R)
Title: Those Who Favor Fire
Author: quiet_rebel
Recipient: joans23, for her prompt Sam/Jo “behind Dean's back”
Rating: R
Pairing:Sam/Jo
Summary: How do you repair something that wants to stay broken?
Author's Notes: Set after season three. Title from the poem “Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost. Thanks to brin_bailey for the beta.
Month One
“He will burn this world for his brother.”
Jo hadn't paid ten bucks for this so-called psychic to talk about the Winchesters; she wanted news about the haunted apartment upstairs, but the grayed-haired woman narrowed her eyes and continued.
“He will not use fire, no, that's much too easy.” She clicked her long fingernails together. “He will use a more powerful weapon. Ah, I see it now.” With a grin, she leaned over the table. “But it will cost you another ten dollars.”
“Forget it.” Jo got up from the table.
“Then, how about some free advice?” the woman called out.
Jo paused.
“Go to him.” Her voice was soft.
If this woman was really a psychic, then she would know about what happened last year in Duluth. There was no way Jo was going near Sam especially now when he didn't have Dean. She'd heard the stories that were already circulating. Sam had turned to the demons for help to get Dean out of hell. He was taking over where Azazel had left off. He was the hunted now, not the hunter.
**
That night, Jo returned to the building. The lights were out from the psychic's place downstairs. Jo needed to be upstairs. The last tenant had reported strange noises, seen things that weren't supposed to be there, found objects that had been moved--all things to make Jo take notice. When she did her research, she found out a couple had been murdered there three years ago. It all pointed to two angry poltergeists.
Armed with a rifle filled with rock salt, she went to do her job.
**
It turned out to be one poltergeist. The woman. Clare Ross. She wasn't angry or vindictive. She just wanted to be heard.
So, Jo listened.
Her boyfriend, Eddie, had killed her. Shot her while she slept. Then he turned the gun on himself. Eddie's parents had money and managed to spin a different tale on what happened that night.
“Why did he kill you?” Jo asked.
“Because he loved me too much,” Clare said with a small smile.
Jo didn't know how to respond to that.
“Thank you,” Clare said. “Thank you for listening. I've waited so long for someone to listen.”
As Jo salted and burned Clare's bones later at the cemetery, she thought about the ghost's words.
“He loved me too much.”
How could love be the reason for doing such a horrible thing?
Jo stared into the grave's fire.
“He will burn this world for his brother.” The psychic's voice this time.
There were people motivated by love to do madness after all.
**
Two weeks later, her mother called.
“Where are you?”
Jo held the cell phone closer to her ear, hoping to drown out the sounds of the bar. “I'm at home.”
“Don't you lie to me.”
“I'm not.” A loud cheer came from the back table as a group of guys chugged their beers.
“I can hardly hear you, Jo.”
She sighed and walked outside the bar. Harleys lined up the parking lot. A biker going into the bar whistled at her. She flipped him off.
“What is it?” Jo said to her mom.
“We got another spotting on Sam.” Her mom's voice was weary as though she hadn't wanted to share the news. Like Jo, she probably wanted him to stay gone.
“Where?” she asked.
“Four days ago in Tallahassee.”
Jo frowned. She was in Tallahassee four days ago.
“Any idea where he was heading or what he's doing?”
“I tried calling Bobby, but he ain't been returning my messages. I figured he don't want anyone else involved.”
“What do you want to do, Mom? Stage some kind of intervention?” She jutted out her hip and put her fingers through the loops on her blue jeans.
“Jo, that boy has lost everything. I'm just trying to see it from his side.”
That was the point. Sam was on his own side. No one else could see where he was coming from.
“Mom--” Static rang in her ear. She pulled the cell away.
A motorcycle roared into the lot. Another Harley. The rider raced past the parked bikes and stopped right in front of her, ignoring the NO PARKING sign.
Great. Another pig-headed biker.
The rider removed his black helmet. Jo blinked, once, twice.
Straddling the Harley was Sam Winchester.
Images rushed through her mind. A bar counter. A pole. Rope burn on her wrists. Steel on her cheek.
“My daddy shot your daddy in the head.”
Jo took a slow step back.
Sam looked up and seemed to notice her for the first time. He tilted his head, maybe thinking the same thing she was: “Are you really here?”
He set the helmet down and swung his long legs from the bike. His hair was longer, tied back in a short ponytail, and the clothes he wore belonged to no hunter. A black trenchcoat and boots. This was a person who wanted to stay in the shadows.
“Hey, Jo.” There was a smile in his voice. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She said yes.
She didn't know why.
They went into the bar. A few of the greasy-looking bikers who had been checking her out earlier now raised their brows at her new friend. Sam didn't seem to care about the looks he was getting. He strolled right past the tattooed guys in leather. There was a confidence in him that she had only seen once.
And once had been enough.
She and Sam sat at the bar. He kept his offer and bought her a Bud Light. He ordered a water. They drank without talking. She watched him trace the condensation on his glass. For a second, she thought it was a Devil's Trap. Maybe it was.
“How you been, Sam?” she finally asked.
He shrugged. “Trying to live my life.”
Without Dean.
Neither one of them had to say it.
**
An hour later, they were back outside. Sam got back on his Harley.
“You better call Ellen and let her know I was here,” he said.
“You mean you want people to know where you've been?” she asked.
He let out a laugh that reminded her of Sam. The thought comforted her. It confirmed that all rumors of him were just rumors.
“If you were a good hunter you'd call and report the news.” With a turn of the key, the bike roared to life. She wondered why he wasn't driving the Impala.
“See you around, Jo.” He put on his helmet and sped off, but he didn't get far. The red light on the back of his bike flashed.
“Go to him.” The grayed-haired psychic spoke to her again.
There was reason why he had stopped, why he waited.
She wanted to know that reason.
She ran to him and swung her legs behind him on the bike. She wrapped her small arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back.
She closed her eyes as her body jerked and became entwined with Sam's and the open road.
Month Two
Jo loved being on the motorcycle as much as she was beginning to love wrapping her arms around Sam each time they went on a ride.
It was always him in front guiding the way and her in back along for it all.
Even though she had packed up what little she had to go on the road with Sam, she still hadn't found the reason why he had waited for her that night. The night she made the choice to go to him.
They never stayed anywhere long. A day here. A night there. Sam Winchester had no home. Just a slew of motels and fraudulent credit cards.
Every now and then, she would think about Dean. She wanted to know what happened the night the hellhounds had come for him. Was Sam putting all those miles on the bike because he was looking for Lilith? Why was she here?
Why are you here, Jo?
The question didn't have to do with Dean or Sam. It was a question she had to answer, and right now, she didn't have one.
**
Her mom still called, asking where she was and who she was with.
If she told her the truth-- “I'm in some motel in some city with Sam”--she knew her mom would freak and that all the hunters would definitely be coming after Sam.
As the weeks passed and Jo began to run out of lies, eventually, word would get back to her mom that she was with Sam. And it wouldn't be a rumor.
**
Three weeks on the road with Sam brought her to Bobby. The older hunter now lived in Colorado, not too far from Denver and the mountains. The air was cool and crisp here unlike the muggy Midwest she was so used to this time of year.
Bobby greeted her with a nod of his head. His hair was hidden under a blue baseball cap. As he and Sam started talking about the bike, she wandered into his house.
It felt good to be in a place with a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, a bedroom with socks on the floor, and shelves filled with books.
A home.
“You hungry or thirsty?” Bobby stood in the doorway.
She stepped out of his room. “Sorry, I was just--”
“It's okay.”
She couldn't see under his cap, but she believed him.
“I'm Bobby.” He held out his hand. “It's nice to finally meet Ellen's girl.”
She shook it. It felt rough and dry against her palm.
She waited for him to ask why she was with Sam, but he didn't.
Instead, he turned and said, “Come on. I'll make you a sandwich.”
**
They stayed at Bobby's that night, talking on his back porch until the stars came out. No one brought up Dean, but Jo was sure he was on their minds. If he was here, would he be making some crack about how lame the latest Friday the 13th movie was? Would he be teasing Jo about her musical taste? Would he be finishing off all the beer Bobby had bought?
No one knew. No one asked.
As the night went on, Bobby went to bed, telling them the guest room and couch was open for them. When it was just her and Sam, the air got cooler and the night became quieter.
She wondered if he could hear her thoughts. For all she knew, he could hear her thoughts; she had heard about his powers. How he stopped Lilith with just one look. Thinking about it made her shiver.
She glanced at Sam from the corner of her eye. He kept his hair pulled back from his face. His stone face. He hadn't laughed since the night at the bar. The trenchcoat was off. Was he always this tall?
Yes, he was. Tall and strong. Too strong.
She rubbed her wrists.
“I'm going to leave tomorrow morning,” he said. “You're not coming with me.”
“What?” Surprise quickly turned to anger. She was getting sick of being left behind by Winchester men. “You're leaving me here? Can I ask why?”
“No.” His jaw clenched.
She shook her head in disbelief. “I don't even know why I bothered.” She stood and glared at him. “You know what they're saying about you, don't you? That you're so consumed with finding a way to get Dean out of hell that you've lost your mind. Maybe they're right. Maybe you have lost it.” She knew how hateful she sounded, but it was a mask to hide the hurt she felt inside.
“I'm getting used to you.” Sam's voice was so soft she didn't think she heard him right. He looked up at her. “I'm getting used to you being with me.”
Her knees locked, then buckled.
“And how long have I been with you, Sam?” She asked the question even though she knew the answer.
“Since Tallahassee.”
It all made sense now. Sam had been in Tallahassee at the same time as her. It wasn't a coincidence he had showed up at that biker bar that night. He had followed her there, and now she was the one doing the following.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “If you were just going to leave me behind, why did you ask me to come with you?”
“I never asked you that.” He said it honestly, simply.
But he had asked. The red flash of brake lights as he stopped and waited.
“Then, ask me now.” She touched his hand. There was no fear. Not anymore. “Ask me to come with you.”
He looked at her hand on his hand. Without saying anything, he stood, and her hand fell from him.
The back door slammed shut as he left her on the porch.
**
Jo heard the Harley's engine in the morning. She laid in the guest room's bed and listened to the bike speed away.
Sam was gone.
Just like that. After almost a month of sharing motel rooms, riding on that Harley together, and making sure Sam was still Sam, he left her. Just like that.
She couldn't go back to sleep so she got out of bed and headed into the kitchen.
Sam stood at the sink.
She blinked to make sure he was there.
He stood with his back facing her. His white T-shirt was snug on his frame and jeans hung low from his waist. And for once, his hair was down, falling to the top of his shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He turned. There were dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept last night, that's for sure.
“I thought I heard the bike,” she said. “I thought--”
--you were gone.
“Bobby's taking it to a friend in Denver,” Sam said.
“You sold your bike? Why?”
He looked back out the window. She moved closer. Parked out back was the Impala. Dean's Impala.
“I figured I needed a home again.” He turned his gaze to her. “I thought it'd be nice for us.”
Us?
“It is.” She smiled. “It's a nice home.”
Month Three
Jo slept with her feet on Sam's lap and her head against the passenger's side door. This was how they traveled. Sam never let her drive, and she never asked him too.
Now she knew why Sam had been scared. She was getting used to being with him too. Safe. Comfortable. But things could change.
Things would change.
As soon as Sam found a way to bring back Dean.
**
Her mom called as soon as she and Sam had left Bobby's. They were at a gas station outside of Durango.
“Joanna Beth--”
Bobby must have answered her mom's call for once and told her about Jo and Sam.
“What are you doing with him?” her mom asked.
From a distance, she watched Sam put gas in the Impala. She ached inside and she didn't want to know why. She chewed on her bottom lip and said, “I don't know.”
**
The truth was she did know.
She knew the moment she threw herself on Sam's Harley. She knew all those times they shared a motel room. She knew the day she met Bobby. She knew when she joined Sam in the Impala.
If Sam was going to burn this world for Dean, she wanted a front row seat.
**
One minute Jo was sleeping in the passenger's seat in her usual position. The next she woke up as Sam was putting her down on a bed in a new motel.
He gently removed his arms from under her and lifted the blankets over her body. She grabbed his hand.
For what?
For this.
She kissed him. Softly at first, unsure of his response, but he deepened the kiss. Their mouths opened, tasting, wanting more, giving more.
She ran her fingers through his hair. For so long she had wanted to touch it. It was softer than she had imagined. She pulled him back with her, still kissing him.
His hands found the skin under her shirt. She sighed against his mouth. It seemed as though Sam had been waiting a long time to touch her too.
Then as soon as it began, it was over.
Sam pressed his forehead against hers. “We shouldn't do this.”
“Why?” She throbbed inside.
“I want to.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, I really want to, but...”
Once Jo had wondered if he could hear her thoughts. Now she was hearing his.
“It's all right.” She kissed his jawline. The stubble scratched her, but it didn't matter. She rubbed her smooth cheek against it. “I know why you followed me. I know why you couldn't ask me to come with you.” She cradled his face in her hands and waited for him to open his eyes. He did. They were wide, fearful, vulnerable. “But, I'm telling you now, Sam, you don't have to be alone anymore. I'm not leaving, and you can't leave me behind. I won't let you.”
He nodded. He understood.
This time, when she pulled him down to her, he didn't stop.
**
Jo wondered if this was what it was like with Dean and Sam. Always having someone there. She woke up. He was there. She went to bed. He was there. She ate, drank, coughed, sneezed, laughed, smiled--he was there.
He was there, but then again, he wasn't.
He wasn't afraid to touch her. She wasn't afraid either. But as she held him, she felt a void inside him. How could emptiness feel so heavy?
At night, she tucked her arm under her head and watched him sleep. She brushed the hair from his closed eyes and lowered her hand to his.
There was so much peace, so much calmness in this moment. She didn't want it to end.
But it wasn't always going to be like this.
Not if Sam had his way.
**
His eyes were black.
Then, red. Yellow. White.
The dreams started somewhere in Nevada. Three weeks after leaving Bobby's. Two weeks after they made love for the first time.
Jo didn't want Sam to know about them. After all, they were just dreams.
Just dreams, she told herself, as Sam's naked body moved on top of hers.
A motel room in Astoria, Oregon. Through the open window, she could feel the ocean air on their skin, smell the salt from the water and their bodies.
Sam kissed the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A smaller version of the one on his chest. It was something he made her get their first night together. Something that would protect her.
She closed her eyes, dug her fingernails into Sam's shoulders, and moaned as he thrust into her.
Just dreams.
Black.
Red.
Yellow.
White.
She cried out as Sam groaned, both of them coming together as one. His body leaned against hers. Warm. Hard and soft at the same time.
Just dreams.
She opened her eyes and smiled. He was looking back at her.
Green.
Month Four
Jo missed the Harley. She didn't tell Sam though, but sometimes, she missed the feel of the wind in her hair. She missed holding on to Sam's waist. She missed watching the scenery pass by in a blur--the countryside, the skyscrapers, the people, and the desert. She missed the feel of the road.
The Impala still gave her a sort of freedom, but the memories it contained made it feel much smaller. Sam's father. Sam's brother. They both lingered in the car with them.
When the time came, would she linger as well?
**
For some reason, Sam wanted to stay in the Northwest. He didn't say for how long, but a week passed. They never stayed anywhere longer than a day. Now seven days had gone by.
Maybe it was the ocean. The constant fog and rain. The forest. The beach.
She didn't know, but where Sam was, she was there too.
Too late to turn back now.
One day, Sam went out and came back with an answer to her question.
“I found her,” he said. “I found Lilith.”
Lilith. The demon who had held Dean's contract. The one who had taken his life. The one responsible for sending him to hell.
Sam said she was in a town in Mason Country, Washington. It was only a few hours away from them.
“How did you know she's there?” Jo asked.
He lowered his head.
“Tell me, Sam.”
He lifted his gaze to her. “I can feel her.”
Feel her?
Jo's skin crawled at the thought. So, all this time, they'd been following a “feeling.”
He sat on the foot of the motel bed. “If you want to leave, I'll understand.”
Her stomach knotted. She would never do that, and if she did, he would never understand. She joined him.
“I told you I'm not leaving and you can't make me either.” She interlaced their fingers. “Can you feel this?”
He covered their conjoined hands with his other one. “Yeah, I do.”
And it was stronger than Lilith, stronger than hell, stronger than any other weapon.
The psychic's prediction had been right.
Sam was going to burn this world for Dean, and he was going to use her to do it.
**
That night, Jo laid in Sam's arms and listened.
He told her about Dean's last year. A demon named Ruby who wanted to help them, but in the end, she couldn't. A thief named Bela who had her own contract to deal with. How he had killed Gordon with his bare hands. The many Tuesdays the Trickster had put him through in order to show him he couldn't save Dean.
“I saw what my life would be like without Dean,” he said. “It turns out the Trickster wasn't too far off, but he was wrong about one thing.” He ran his hand up her arm. She shivered. “I don't have to be alone.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Thanks for listening. I've waited a long time for someone who would listen.”
Jo had heard those words before from Clare. The woman whose boyfriend had killed her because he had loved her too much. She remembered the small smile on Clare's face when she told Jo those words, like all was forgiven. Jo couldn't do it before, but now she could understand. Now she was Clare, a ghost of a woman who was with a man who loved too much.
**
Lilith was not what Jo expected.
The elderly man was fishing off a dock. In front of him, the blue river flowed from the mountains. The early morning sun colored the sky pink and orange.
Jo and Sam watched the man from a distance. They had parked the Impala away from the cabin in the woods and walked the rest of the way. There was no vehicle in front of the man's home. He was alone.
Lilith was alone.
Jo's hand hovered the gun at her waist. Sam held on to Ruby's knife. A rifle was strapped to his back. She heard him take in a deep breath and touched her hand.
I'm not leaving.
He seemed to understand her and squeezed her hand as a response.
He approached Lilith.
And they slid into their roles like on the Harley. Sam in front leading the way and Jo behind him along for it all.
The wind picked up, whipping Jo's hair around. She gripped the gun in her hand and kept her gaze on Sam's back.
When they made it to the docks, Sam raised the knife.
“Hello, Sam,” Lilith said without even turning.
The knife stopped mid-air.
Lilith picked a squirming earthworm from a paper cup and hooked it on to the end of the fishing line. “It's been a slow day out here. I'm so glad you could come by and play with me.” She finished with his bait and tossed the line back out to the water. She put the pole down. “I like fishing.” She finally turned to them. Her eyes were clouded white.
Jo steadied her gun in the air, aiming it at the man. It wasn't a man. Not anymore.
“Well, look at who we have here.” Lilith cocked her head. “Little Miss Jo Harvelle. I know all about you.”
“You don't know anything about me,” she said.
“I know your daddy burns in hell with Dean Winchester.”
“Shut up,” Jo and Sam yelled.
He grabbed Lilith and pressed the blade to her neck. “You're going to pay for what you did to Dean.”
Lilith chuckled. “You don't scare me anymore, Sam. I know your weakness and it's the same one I have.” She pressed the barrel of a gun into Sam's gut. “If you even nick me with that knife, I'll shoot the Colt. Then, you'll be dead, for good this time.”
It was enough of a threat to make Sam take a step back. Jo inched to pull her own trigger.
“That's a good boy.” Lilith kept the Colt on him. “The truth is I don't want to hurt you. I've had some time to think. Mostly about you and me. Together, with our powers, we'd be unstoppable. Let me train you. I can help you with them. Then, we can bring back Dean.”
They were just empty promises. Lies. All lies.
But Sam's gaze stayed on Lilith as though he was really hearing what she had to say. Sam said he could feel her. Was there some other connection there that he hadn't told Jo?
“Looks like we have a taker.” Lilith was talking about the bobbing fishing pole. Something on the other end tugged on the line.
Jo realized Lilith was dangling a worm in front of Sam too. She was using Dean as bait. The question was would Sam take it.
“Okay,” he sighed.
Lilith smiled. “Okay.”
Sickened, Jo dropped the gun to her side. This was not happening.
“But you have to prove to me your loyalty.” Lilith looked at Jo. “Kill her.”
Jo's heart raced. She met Sam's steady gaze. His green eyes locked with hers. Those green eyes.
He wrapped an arm around her. The knife was still in his hand. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Don't let go of me.”
“What are you waiting for, Sam?” Lilith asked.
He turned back to her. “You should know, demons lie.”
Realizing she had been tricked, Lilith raised the Colt. Sam raised his hand at the same time, opening his palm. A bright white light washed over them. Jo hid her face in Sam's chest. He tightened his hold on her. A rush of hot air blasted them. It was like being on the Harley again--her face pressed into Sam, her arms wrapped around him, and the wind blowing around them.
Lilith's screams ended. The light dimmed and Jo lifted her head. She gasped at what she saw. Lilith, the old man, and the Colt were gone. The sky was a fierce red, the river was ablaze with flames, and the air was thick with smoke. The only sanctuary was in Sam's arms.
She was not afraid of the fire. This was what she had wanted. To see if Sam would burn this world.
She looked up to him. Sam's jaw was clenched, focused, determined. When he lowered his gaze to her, she was taken aback by the silver glint in his dark eyes. It was almost beautiful. She brushed her knuckles across his cheek.
“Sam...”
His face twitched. He closed his eyes and gasped for air. When he opened them again, they were green. Just green.
She huddled against him as he enclosed her into his frame.
Behind them, there was a loud roar, and the flames parted.
“Sam!” A voice screamed from the other side.
Jo and Sam tensed. They knew that voice.
“Sam!”
It was Dean.
Sam started towards his brother. More flames moved, creating a path for him. He stopped and turned back to her.
“Come with me,” he said.
And Jo, knowing Sam had a more powerful weapon than fire, went to him.
THE END
Author: quiet_rebel
Recipient: joans23, for her prompt Sam/Jo “behind Dean's back”
Rating: R
Pairing:Sam/Jo
Summary: How do you repair something that wants to stay broken?
Author's Notes: Set after season three. Title from the poem “Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost. Thanks to brin_bailey for the beta.
Month One
“He will burn this world for his brother.”
Jo hadn't paid ten bucks for this so-called psychic to talk about the Winchesters; she wanted news about the haunted apartment upstairs, but the grayed-haired woman narrowed her eyes and continued.
“He will not use fire, no, that's much too easy.” She clicked her long fingernails together. “He will use a more powerful weapon. Ah, I see it now.” With a grin, she leaned over the table. “But it will cost you another ten dollars.”
“Forget it.” Jo got up from the table.
“Then, how about some free advice?” the woman called out.
Jo paused.
“Go to him.” Her voice was soft.
If this woman was really a psychic, then she would know about what happened last year in Duluth. There was no way Jo was going near Sam especially now when he didn't have Dean. She'd heard the stories that were already circulating. Sam had turned to the demons for help to get Dean out of hell. He was taking over where Azazel had left off. He was the hunted now, not the hunter.
**
That night, Jo returned to the building. The lights were out from the psychic's place downstairs. Jo needed to be upstairs. The last tenant had reported strange noises, seen things that weren't supposed to be there, found objects that had been moved--all things to make Jo take notice. When she did her research, she found out a couple had been murdered there three years ago. It all pointed to two angry poltergeists.
Armed with a rifle filled with rock salt, she went to do her job.
**
It turned out to be one poltergeist. The woman. Clare Ross. She wasn't angry or vindictive. She just wanted to be heard.
So, Jo listened.
Her boyfriend, Eddie, had killed her. Shot her while she slept. Then he turned the gun on himself. Eddie's parents had money and managed to spin a different tale on what happened that night.
“Why did he kill you?” Jo asked.
“Because he loved me too much,” Clare said with a small smile.
Jo didn't know how to respond to that.
“Thank you,” Clare said. “Thank you for listening. I've waited so long for someone to listen.”
As Jo salted and burned Clare's bones later at the cemetery, she thought about the ghost's words.
“He loved me too much.”
How could love be the reason for doing such a horrible thing?
Jo stared into the grave's fire.
“He will burn this world for his brother.” The psychic's voice this time.
There were people motivated by love to do madness after all.
**
Two weeks later, her mother called.
“Where are you?”
Jo held the cell phone closer to her ear, hoping to drown out the sounds of the bar. “I'm at home.”
“Don't you lie to me.”
“I'm not.” A loud cheer came from the back table as a group of guys chugged their beers.
“I can hardly hear you, Jo.”
She sighed and walked outside the bar. Harleys lined up the parking lot. A biker going into the bar whistled at her. She flipped him off.
“What is it?” Jo said to her mom.
“We got another spotting on Sam.” Her mom's voice was weary as though she hadn't wanted to share the news. Like Jo, she probably wanted him to stay gone.
“Where?” she asked.
“Four days ago in Tallahassee.”
Jo frowned. She was in Tallahassee four days ago.
“Any idea where he was heading or what he's doing?”
“I tried calling Bobby, but he ain't been returning my messages. I figured he don't want anyone else involved.”
“What do you want to do, Mom? Stage some kind of intervention?” She jutted out her hip and put her fingers through the loops on her blue jeans.
“Jo, that boy has lost everything. I'm just trying to see it from his side.”
That was the point. Sam was on his own side. No one else could see where he was coming from.
“Mom--” Static rang in her ear. She pulled the cell away.
A motorcycle roared into the lot. Another Harley. The rider raced past the parked bikes and stopped right in front of her, ignoring the NO PARKING sign.
Great. Another pig-headed biker.
The rider removed his black helmet. Jo blinked, once, twice.
Straddling the Harley was Sam Winchester.
Images rushed through her mind. A bar counter. A pole. Rope burn on her wrists. Steel on her cheek.
“My daddy shot your daddy in the head.”
Jo took a slow step back.
Sam looked up and seemed to notice her for the first time. He tilted his head, maybe thinking the same thing she was: “Are you really here?”
He set the helmet down and swung his long legs from the bike. His hair was longer, tied back in a short ponytail, and the clothes he wore belonged to no hunter. A black trenchcoat and boots. This was a person who wanted to stay in the shadows.
“Hey, Jo.” There was a smile in his voice. “Can I buy you a drink?”
She said yes.
She didn't know why.
They went into the bar. A few of the greasy-looking bikers who had been checking her out earlier now raised their brows at her new friend. Sam didn't seem to care about the looks he was getting. He strolled right past the tattooed guys in leather. There was a confidence in him that she had only seen once.
And once had been enough.
She and Sam sat at the bar. He kept his offer and bought her a Bud Light. He ordered a water. They drank without talking. She watched him trace the condensation on his glass. For a second, she thought it was a Devil's Trap. Maybe it was.
“How you been, Sam?” she finally asked.
He shrugged. “Trying to live my life.”
Without Dean.
Neither one of them had to say it.
**
An hour later, they were back outside. Sam got back on his Harley.
“You better call Ellen and let her know I was here,” he said.
“You mean you want people to know where you've been?” she asked.
He let out a laugh that reminded her of Sam. The thought comforted her. It confirmed that all rumors of him were just rumors.
“If you were a good hunter you'd call and report the news.” With a turn of the key, the bike roared to life. She wondered why he wasn't driving the Impala.
“See you around, Jo.” He put on his helmet and sped off, but he didn't get far. The red light on the back of his bike flashed.
“Go to him.” The grayed-haired psychic spoke to her again.
There was reason why he had stopped, why he waited.
She wanted to know that reason.
She ran to him and swung her legs behind him on the bike. She wrapped her small arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back.
She closed her eyes as her body jerked and became entwined with Sam's and the open road.
Month Two
Jo loved being on the motorcycle as much as she was beginning to love wrapping her arms around Sam each time they went on a ride.
It was always him in front guiding the way and her in back along for it all.
Even though she had packed up what little she had to go on the road with Sam, she still hadn't found the reason why he had waited for her that night. The night she made the choice to go to him.
They never stayed anywhere long. A day here. A night there. Sam Winchester had no home. Just a slew of motels and fraudulent credit cards.
Every now and then, she would think about Dean. She wanted to know what happened the night the hellhounds had come for him. Was Sam putting all those miles on the bike because he was looking for Lilith? Why was she here?
Why are you here, Jo?
The question didn't have to do with Dean or Sam. It was a question she had to answer, and right now, she didn't have one.
**
Her mom still called, asking where she was and who she was with.
If she told her the truth-- “I'm in some motel in some city with Sam”--she knew her mom would freak and that all the hunters would definitely be coming after Sam.
As the weeks passed and Jo began to run out of lies, eventually, word would get back to her mom that she was with Sam. And it wouldn't be a rumor.
**
Three weeks on the road with Sam brought her to Bobby. The older hunter now lived in Colorado, not too far from Denver and the mountains. The air was cool and crisp here unlike the muggy Midwest she was so used to this time of year.
Bobby greeted her with a nod of his head. His hair was hidden under a blue baseball cap. As he and Sam started talking about the bike, she wandered into his house.
It felt good to be in a place with a kitchen sink full of dirty dishes, a bedroom with socks on the floor, and shelves filled with books.
A home.
“You hungry or thirsty?” Bobby stood in the doorway.
She stepped out of his room. “Sorry, I was just--”
“It's okay.”
She couldn't see under his cap, but she believed him.
“I'm Bobby.” He held out his hand. “It's nice to finally meet Ellen's girl.”
She shook it. It felt rough and dry against her palm.
She waited for him to ask why she was with Sam, but he didn't.
Instead, he turned and said, “Come on. I'll make you a sandwich.”
**
They stayed at Bobby's that night, talking on his back porch until the stars came out. No one brought up Dean, but Jo was sure he was on their minds. If he was here, would he be making some crack about how lame the latest Friday the 13th movie was? Would he be teasing Jo about her musical taste? Would he be finishing off all the beer Bobby had bought?
No one knew. No one asked.
As the night went on, Bobby went to bed, telling them the guest room and couch was open for them. When it was just her and Sam, the air got cooler and the night became quieter.
She wondered if he could hear her thoughts. For all she knew, he could hear her thoughts; she had heard about his powers. How he stopped Lilith with just one look. Thinking about it made her shiver.
She glanced at Sam from the corner of her eye. He kept his hair pulled back from his face. His stone face. He hadn't laughed since the night at the bar. The trenchcoat was off. Was he always this tall?
Yes, he was. Tall and strong. Too strong.
She rubbed her wrists.
“I'm going to leave tomorrow morning,” he said. “You're not coming with me.”
“What?” Surprise quickly turned to anger. She was getting sick of being left behind by Winchester men. “You're leaving me here? Can I ask why?”
“No.” His jaw clenched.
She shook her head in disbelief. “I don't even know why I bothered.” She stood and glared at him. “You know what they're saying about you, don't you? That you're so consumed with finding a way to get Dean out of hell that you've lost your mind. Maybe they're right. Maybe you have lost it.” She knew how hateful she sounded, but it was a mask to hide the hurt she felt inside.
“I'm getting used to you.” Sam's voice was so soft she didn't think she heard him right. He looked up at her. “I'm getting used to you being with me.”
Her knees locked, then buckled.
“And how long have I been with you, Sam?” She asked the question even though she knew the answer.
“Since Tallahassee.”
It all made sense now. Sam had been in Tallahassee at the same time as her. It wasn't a coincidence he had showed up at that biker bar that night. He had followed her there, and now she was the one doing the following.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “If you were just going to leave me behind, why did you ask me to come with you?”
“I never asked you that.” He said it honestly, simply.
But he had asked. The red flash of brake lights as he stopped and waited.
“Then, ask me now.” She touched his hand. There was no fear. Not anymore. “Ask me to come with you.”
He looked at her hand on his hand. Without saying anything, he stood, and her hand fell from him.
The back door slammed shut as he left her on the porch.
**
Jo heard the Harley's engine in the morning. She laid in the guest room's bed and listened to the bike speed away.
Sam was gone.
Just like that. After almost a month of sharing motel rooms, riding on that Harley together, and making sure Sam was still Sam, he left her. Just like that.
She couldn't go back to sleep so she got out of bed and headed into the kitchen.
Sam stood at the sink.
She blinked to make sure he was there.
He stood with his back facing her. His white T-shirt was snug on his frame and jeans hung low from his waist. And for once, his hair was down, falling to the top of his shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
He turned. There were dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept last night, that's for sure.
“I thought I heard the bike,” she said. “I thought--”
--you were gone.
“Bobby's taking it to a friend in Denver,” Sam said.
“You sold your bike? Why?”
He looked back out the window. She moved closer. Parked out back was the Impala. Dean's Impala.
“I figured I needed a home again.” He turned his gaze to her. “I thought it'd be nice for us.”
Us?
“It is.” She smiled. “It's a nice home.”
Month Three
Jo slept with her feet on Sam's lap and her head against the passenger's side door. This was how they traveled. Sam never let her drive, and she never asked him too.
Now she knew why Sam had been scared. She was getting used to being with him too. Safe. Comfortable. But things could change.
Things would change.
As soon as Sam found a way to bring back Dean.
**
Her mom called as soon as she and Sam had left Bobby's. They were at a gas station outside of Durango.
“Joanna Beth--”
Bobby must have answered her mom's call for once and told her about Jo and Sam.
“What are you doing with him?” her mom asked.
From a distance, she watched Sam put gas in the Impala. She ached inside and she didn't want to know why. She chewed on her bottom lip and said, “I don't know.”
**
The truth was she did know.
She knew the moment she threw herself on Sam's Harley. She knew all those times they shared a motel room. She knew the day she met Bobby. She knew when she joined Sam in the Impala.
If Sam was going to burn this world for Dean, she wanted a front row seat.
**
One minute Jo was sleeping in the passenger's seat in her usual position. The next she woke up as Sam was putting her down on a bed in a new motel.
He gently removed his arms from under her and lifted the blankets over her body. She grabbed his hand.
For what?
For this.
She kissed him. Softly at first, unsure of his response, but he deepened the kiss. Their mouths opened, tasting, wanting more, giving more.
She ran her fingers through his hair. For so long she had wanted to touch it. It was softer than she had imagined. She pulled him back with her, still kissing him.
His hands found the skin under her shirt. She sighed against his mouth. It seemed as though Sam had been waiting a long time to touch her too.
Then as soon as it began, it was over.
Sam pressed his forehead against hers. “We shouldn't do this.”
“Why?” She throbbed inside.
“I want to.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck, I really want to, but...”
Once Jo had wondered if he could hear her thoughts. Now she was hearing his.
“It's all right.” She kissed his jawline. The stubble scratched her, but it didn't matter. She rubbed her smooth cheek against it. “I know why you followed me. I know why you couldn't ask me to come with you.” She cradled his face in her hands and waited for him to open his eyes. He did. They were wide, fearful, vulnerable. “But, I'm telling you now, Sam, you don't have to be alone anymore. I'm not leaving, and you can't leave me behind. I won't let you.”
He nodded. He understood.
This time, when she pulled him down to her, he didn't stop.
**
Jo wondered if this was what it was like with Dean and Sam. Always having someone there. She woke up. He was there. She went to bed. He was there. She ate, drank, coughed, sneezed, laughed, smiled--he was there.
He was there, but then again, he wasn't.
He wasn't afraid to touch her. She wasn't afraid either. But as she held him, she felt a void inside him. How could emptiness feel so heavy?
At night, she tucked her arm under her head and watched him sleep. She brushed the hair from his closed eyes and lowered her hand to his.
There was so much peace, so much calmness in this moment. She didn't want it to end.
But it wasn't always going to be like this.
Not if Sam had his way.
**
His eyes were black.
Then, red. Yellow. White.
The dreams started somewhere in Nevada. Three weeks after leaving Bobby's. Two weeks after they made love for the first time.
Jo didn't want Sam to know about them. After all, they were just dreams.
Just dreams, she told herself, as Sam's naked body moved on top of hers.
A motel room in Astoria, Oregon. Through the open window, she could feel the ocean air on their skin, smell the salt from the water and their bodies.
Sam kissed the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A smaller version of the one on his chest. It was something he made her get their first night together. Something that would protect her.
She closed her eyes, dug her fingernails into Sam's shoulders, and moaned as he thrust into her.
Just dreams.
Black.
Red.
Yellow.
White.
She cried out as Sam groaned, both of them coming together as one. His body leaned against hers. Warm. Hard and soft at the same time.
Just dreams.
She opened her eyes and smiled. He was looking back at her.
Green.
Month Four
Jo missed the Harley. She didn't tell Sam though, but sometimes, she missed the feel of the wind in her hair. She missed holding on to Sam's waist. She missed watching the scenery pass by in a blur--the countryside, the skyscrapers, the people, and the desert. She missed the feel of the road.
The Impala still gave her a sort of freedom, but the memories it contained made it feel much smaller. Sam's father. Sam's brother. They both lingered in the car with them.
When the time came, would she linger as well?
**
For some reason, Sam wanted to stay in the Northwest. He didn't say for how long, but a week passed. They never stayed anywhere longer than a day. Now seven days had gone by.
Maybe it was the ocean. The constant fog and rain. The forest. The beach.
She didn't know, but where Sam was, she was there too.
Too late to turn back now.
One day, Sam went out and came back with an answer to her question.
“I found her,” he said. “I found Lilith.”
Lilith. The demon who had held Dean's contract. The one who had taken his life. The one responsible for sending him to hell.
Sam said she was in a town in Mason Country, Washington. It was only a few hours away from them.
“How did you know she's there?” Jo asked.
He lowered his head.
“Tell me, Sam.”
He lifted his gaze to her. “I can feel her.”
Feel her?
Jo's skin crawled at the thought. So, all this time, they'd been following a “feeling.”
He sat on the foot of the motel bed. “If you want to leave, I'll understand.”
Her stomach knotted. She would never do that, and if she did, he would never understand. She joined him.
“I told you I'm not leaving and you can't make me either.” She interlaced their fingers. “Can you feel this?”
He covered their conjoined hands with his other one. “Yeah, I do.”
And it was stronger than Lilith, stronger than hell, stronger than any other weapon.
The psychic's prediction had been right.
Sam was going to burn this world for Dean, and he was going to use her to do it.
**
That night, Jo laid in Sam's arms and listened.
He told her about Dean's last year. A demon named Ruby who wanted to help them, but in the end, she couldn't. A thief named Bela who had her own contract to deal with. How he had killed Gordon with his bare hands. The many Tuesdays the Trickster had put him through in order to show him he couldn't save Dean.
“I saw what my life would be like without Dean,” he said. “It turns out the Trickster wasn't too far off, but he was wrong about one thing.” He ran his hand up her arm. She shivered. “I don't have to be alone.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Thanks for listening. I've waited a long time for someone who would listen.”
Jo had heard those words before from Clare. The woman whose boyfriend had killed her because he had loved her too much. She remembered the small smile on Clare's face when she told Jo those words, like all was forgiven. Jo couldn't do it before, but now she could understand. Now she was Clare, a ghost of a woman who was with a man who loved too much.
**
Lilith was not what Jo expected.
The elderly man was fishing off a dock. In front of him, the blue river flowed from the mountains. The early morning sun colored the sky pink and orange.
Jo and Sam watched the man from a distance. They had parked the Impala away from the cabin in the woods and walked the rest of the way. There was no vehicle in front of the man's home. He was alone.
Lilith was alone.
Jo's hand hovered the gun at her waist. Sam held on to Ruby's knife. A rifle was strapped to his back. She heard him take in a deep breath and touched her hand.
I'm not leaving.
He seemed to understand her and squeezed her hand as a response.
He approached Lilith.
And they slid into their roles like on the Harley. Sam in front leading the way and Jo behind him along for it all.
The wind picked up, whipping Jo's hair around. She gripped the gun in her hand and kept her gaze on Sam's back.
When they made it to the docks, Sam raised the knife.
“Hello, Sam,” Lilith said without even turning.
The knife stopped mid-air.
Lilith picked a squirming earthworm from a paper cup and hooked it on to the end of the fishing line. “It's been a slow day out here. I'm so glad you could come by and play with me.” She finished with his bait and tossed the line back out to the water. She put the pole down. “I like fishing.” She finally turned to them. Her eyes were clouded white.
Jo steadied her gun in the air, aiming it at the man. It wasn't a man. Not anymore.
“Well, look at who we have here.” Lilith cocked her head. “Little Miss Jo Harvelle. I know all about you.”
“You don't know anything about me,” she said.
“I know your daddy burns in hell with Dean Winchester.”
“Shut up,” Jo and Sam yelled.
He grabbed Lilith and pressed the blade to her neck. “You're going to pay for what you did to Dean.”
Lilith chuckled. “You don't scare me anymore, Sam. I know your weakness and it's the same one I have.” She pressed the barrel of a gun into Sam's gut. “If you even nick me with that knife, I'll shoot the Colt. Then, you'll be dead, for good this time.”
It was enough of a threat to make Sam take a step back. Jo inched to pull her own trigger.
“That's a good boy.” Lilith kept the Colt on him. “The truth is I don't want to hurt you. I've had some time to think. Mostly about you and me. Together, with our powers, we'd be unstoppable. Let me train you. I can help you with them. Then, we can bring back Dean.”
They were just empty promises. Lies. All lies.
But Sam's gaze stayed on Lilith as though he was really hearing what she had to say. Sam said he could feel her. Was there some other connection there that he hadn't told Jo?
“Looks like we have a taker.” Lilith was talking about the bobbing fishing pole. Something on the other end tugged on the line.
Jo realized Lilith was dangling a worm in front of Sam too. She was using Dean as bait. The question was would Sam take it.
“Okay,” he sighed.
Lilith smiled. “Okay.”
Sickened, Jo dropped the gun to her side. This was not happening.
“But you have to prove to me your loyalty.” Lilith looked at Jo. “Kill her.”
Jo's heart raced. She met Sam's steady gaze. His green eyes locked with hers. Those green eyes.
He wrapped an arm around her. The knife was still in his hand. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Don't let go of me.”
“What are you waiting for, Sam?” Lilith asked.
He turned back to her. “You should know, demons lie.”
Realizing she had been tricked, Lilith raised the Colt. Sam raised his hand at the same time, opening his palm. A bright white light washed over them. Jo hid her face in Sam's chest. He tightened his hold on her. A rush of hot air blasted them. It was like being on the Harley again--her face pressed into Sam, her arms wrapped around him, and the wind blowing around them.
Lilith's screams ended. The light dimmed and Jo lifted her head. She gasped at what she saw. Lilith, the old man, and the Colt were gone. The sky was a fierce red, the river was ablaze with flames, and the air was thick with smoke. The only sanctuary was in Sam's arms.
She was not afraid of the fire. This was what she had wanted. To see if Sam would burn this world.
She looked up to him. Sam's jaw was clenched, focused, determined. When he lowered his gaze to her, she was taken aback by the silver glint in his dark eyes. It was almost beautiful. She brushed her knuckles across his cheek.
“Sam...”
His face twitched. He closed his eyes and gasped for air. When he opened them again, they were green. Just green.
She huddled against him as he enclosed her into his frame.
Behind them, there was a loud roar, and the flames parted.
“Sam!” A voice screamed from the other side.
Jo and Sam tensed. They knew that voice.
“Sam!”
It was Dean.
Sam started towards his brother. More flames moved, creating a path for him. He stopped and turned back to her.
“Come with me,” he said.
And Jo, knowing Sam had a more powerful weapon than fire, went to him.
THE END