Title: Demons Lie
Author:![]()
cynicaloptimis
Recipient:![]()
montisello
Rating: PG/PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Jo
Summary: Back from the dead, Dean stumbles upon a woman performing an exorcism and wonders where he's seen her before.
Author's Notes: Spoilers through season 3 finale.
“Go to Hell you red-eyed son of a bitch,” were the words Dean Winchester heard when he walked into the old warehouse in Wisconsin a year after his return from Hell. It was a woman’s voice, oddly familiar, yet Dean couldn’t place it. He looked at Sam who nodded at him and the two slowly made their way towards the sound of the woman’s voice.
“Honey, I’ve already been there.” A man’s – no a demon’s – voice spoke and the lilting intonation was clearly meant to irritate the woman. When he didn’t receive an answer, he continued his taunts, asking the woman questions about her father and about her childhood home that apparently no longer existed.
“Why are you talking? I’m not going to let you go.” Her voice was harsh, abrupt and left no room for questions. Dean smirked, knowing that even he wouldn’t talk back to her unless he had good reason to. She reminded him of Ellen. Ellen. How he missed her, the dysfunctional mother figure he’d had for the past few years. She’d gone down trying to help Sam and Dean find one of Azazel’s particularly vengeful children. Dean still regretted her death, but more than that, regretted that she’d never been able to find Jo again before her death. A gasp drew him out of his thoughts and he looked over at Sam to find him looking slightly confused. Should we help? Sam mouthed. Dean shook his head curtly, wanting to know what the woman was going to do.
They heard a rustling sound and then the woman began speaking again in Latin. An exorcism. Knowing exorcisms could get messy, both Sam and Dean began moving closer in case help was needed. Sam had a bottle of holy water in his hand and Dean had an iron knife encased in his.
“Sending me back to Hell isn’t going to change anything.” The demon continued his taunts, trying to scare the woman into letting him go. She gave him another deathly glare, her blonde head glistening in the moonlight and continued chanting. She threw what looked like holy water on him for good measure and her voice rose.
The second Dean saw the glistening golden hair and the Devil’s Trap on the floor he knew exactly who was in there. Jo. Time seemed to stand still as his eyes made his way south from her hair. Gone was the skinny girl who had followed them to Philly and saved him in Duluth. In her place was a siren whose body had filled out in all the right places. Her shirt rode low and Dean could see the slight swell of her breast in the moonlight before following her body further to her slim waist and the expanse below.
Sam’s jostling woke him from his thoughts of Jo and back to the current situation. All Dean could think of doing was running in and helping her. It didn’t matter how old she’d become, how experienced or how beautiful. All that mattered was that deep down he had an innate desire to keep her from putting herself in harm’s way. The only thing that stopped him from doing so was Sam’s hand on his shoulder and the voice that whispered into his ear saying, “Dean, Dean! She’s gotten this far on her own.”
The demon spoke again. “Exorcising me isn’t going to bring your mother back, you know. She’s dead, has been ever since she tried to kill me.” Jo’s eyes glistened but still she soldiered on, refusing to be confused into oblivion by the demon.
“But we all know the real reason you’ve kept doing this, little Jo Harvelle. Well, I suppose not so little anymore. You’ve definitely grown up. But that’s beside the point. You’re still hoping to avenge Dean Winchester, hoping that if you work hard enough, if you exorcise enough demons, if you give as much of yourself that he did, somehow you’ll be able to save him from the fate that he suffers through everyday. “
Two lone tears made their way down Jo’s face and Dean realized how disconnected from the hunting world Jo had become. Without her mother, she knew no one save him and Sam but who knew when they’d come around again? She must have heard the news about him from a passing hunter that she’d come along and then segregated herself so much that she didn’t even know he was alive today. It took all of Dean’s willpower and Sam’s manpower to keep Dean from running into that room and telling Jo that the demon was lying, that he was alive. He was here.
But he didn’t run into that room. He didn’t tell her the truth. He didn’t because he wanted to see what Jo would do. Would she let her emotions get the best of her? Dean had no idea where these emotions had come from and he supposed that his subconscious had reevaluated life after his return from Hell. How else could he explain the tightening in his chest at the demon’s crass and cruel assessment of Jo’s emotions? That tightening had certainly not been there the last time they’d been on a hunt together. The last hunt there was paranoia and anger, but never this feeling of caring.
She wiped the tears from her eyes as if they were specks of dust and paused before she continued her chant, refusing to be interrupted. The words sounded almost like music coming from her lips and Dean stood in shock, just watching and absorbing the sound of her voice. The demon continued his taunting tirade.
“No matter how grown up you become or how good of a hunter you will be, Dean Winchester will never love you and he’ll never return. His soul will rest in Hell forever.” The gleeful words struck a nerve inside of Jo and she finished the exorcism with a glint in her eye that receded only when the demon had screamed its last scream and disappeared, leaving a pile of dust in its wake. It was only then that she fell to her knees and held her head in her hands. She counted to twenty and rose from the floor as she began to pack up the rest of her items.
She had everything tucked away and turned around to see Dean Winchester standing slack-jawed in front of her. She walked towards him and he almost thought she was going to embrace him, but that thought was shot to Hell when he felt water splashed all over his face. She thought he was a demon?!
When the water didn’t sizzle and Dean had wiped it from his face, Jo felt the stubble on his face and moved her hands down to his arms and his chest, feeling nothing but solid flesh, the sinewy muscles, underneath her fingertips.
“You’re real,” were the only words she spoke. Her voice was laced with incredulity and as her brown orbs locked onto his green ones, Dean could only think of one appropriate response before his lips crashed into hers, his tongue parting her own before fighting for dominance as her hands found their way underneath his shirt, pulling him closer to her.
“Demons lie,” he said before kissing her again, with the intention of never letting her go.
Author:
cynicaloptimisRecipient:
montiselloRating: PG/PG-13
Pairing: Dean/Jo
Summary: Back from the dead, Dean stumbles upon a woman performing an exorcism and wonders where he's seen her before.
Author's Notes: Spoilers through season 3 finale.
“Go to Hell you red-eyed son of a bitch,” were the words Dean Winchester heard when he walked into the old warehouse in Wisconsin a year after his return from Hell. It was a woman’s voice, oddly familiar, yet Dean couldn’t place it. He looked at Sam who nodded at him and the two slowly made their way towards the sound of the woman’s voice.
“Honey, I’ve already been there.” A man’s – no a demon’s – voice spoke and the lilting intonation was clearly meant to irritate the woman. When he didn’t receive an answer, he continued his taunts, asking the woman questions about her father and about her childhood home that apparently no longer existed.
“Why are you talking? I’m not going to let you go.” Her voice was harsh, abrupt and left no room for questions. Dean smirked, knowing that even he wouldn’t talk back to her unless he had good reason to. She reminded him of Ellen. Ellen. How he missed her, the dysfunctional mother figure he’d had for the past few years. She’d gone down trying to help Sam and Dean find one of Azazel’s particularly vengeful children. Dean still regretted her death, but more than that, regretted that she’d never been able to find Jo again before her death. A gasp drew him out of his thoughts and he looked over at Sam to find him looking slightly confused. Should we help? Sam mouthed. Dean shook his head curtly, wanting to know what the woman was going to do.
They heard a rustling sound and then the woman began speaking again in Latin. An exorcism. Knowing exorcisms could get messy, both Sam and Dean began moving closer in case help was needed. Sam had a bottle of holy water in his hand and Dean had an iron knife encased in his.
“Sending me back to Hell isn’t going to change anything.” The demon continued his taunts, trying to scare the woman into letting him go. She gave him another deathly glare, her blonde head glistening in the moonlight and continued chanting. She threw what looked like holy water on him for good measure and her voice rose.
The second Dean saw the glistening golden hair and the Devil’s Trap on the floor he knew exactly who was in there. Jo. Time seemed to stand still as his eyes made his way south from her hair. Gone was the skinny girl who had followed them to Philly and saved him in Duluth. In her place was a siren whose body had filled out in all the right places. Her shirt rode low and Dean could see the slight swell of her breast in the moonlight before following her body further to her slim waist and the expanse below.
Sam’s jostling woke him from his thoughts of Jo and back to the current situation. All Dean could think of doing was running in and helping her. It didn’t matter how old she’d become, how experienced or how beautiful. All that mattered was that deep down he had an innate desire to keep her from putting herself in harm’s way. The only thing that stopped him from doing so was Sam’s hand on his shoulder and the voice that whispered into his ear saying, “Dean, Dean! She’s gotten this far on her own.”
The demon spoke again. “Exorcising me isn’t going to bring your mother back, you know. She’s dead, has been ever since she tried to kill me.” Jo’s eyes glistened but still she soldiered on, refusing to be confused into oblivion by the demon.
“But we all know the real reason you’ve kept doing this, little Jo Harvelle. Well, I suppose not so little anymore. You’ve definitely grown up. But that’s beside the point. You’re still hoping to avenge Dean Winchester, hoping that if you work hard enough, if you exorcise enough demons, if you give as much of yourself that he did, somehow you’ll be able to save him from the fate that he suffers through everyday. “
Two lone tears made their way down Jo’s face and Dean realized how disconnected from the hunting world Jo had become. Without her mother, she knew no one save him and Sam but who knew when they’d come around again? She must have heard the news about him from a passing hunter that she’d come along and then segregated herself so much that she didn’t even know he was alive today. It took all of Dean’s willpower and Sam’s manpower to keep Dean from running into that room and telling Jo that the demon was lying, that he was alive. He was here.
But he didn’t run into that room. He didn’t tell her the truth. He didn’t because he wanted to see what Jo would do. Would she let her emotions get the best of her? Dean had no idea where these emotions had come from and he supposed that his subconscious had reevaluated life after his return from Hell. How else could he explain the tightening in his chest at the demon’s crass and cruel assessment of Jo’s emotions? That tightening had certainly not been there the last time they’d been on a hunt together. The last hunt there was paranoia and anger, but never this feeling of caring.
She wiped the tears from her eyes as if they were specks of dust and paused before she continued her chant, refusing to be interrupted. The words sounded almost like music coming from her lips and Dean stood in shock, just watching and absorbing the sound of her voice. The demon continued his taunting tirade.
“No matter how grown up you become or how good of a hunter you will be, Dean Winchester will never love you and he’ll never return. His soul will rest in Hell forever.” The gleeful words struck a nerve inside of Jo and she finished the exorcism with a glint in her eye that receded only when the demon had screamed its last scream and disappeared, leaving a pile of dust in its wake. It was only then that she fell to her knees and held her head in her hands. She counted to twenty and rose from the floor as she began to pack up the rest of her items.
She had everything tucked away and turned around to see Dean Winchester standing slack-jawed in front of her. She walked towards him and he almost thought she was going to embrace him, but that thought was shot to Hell when he felt water splashed all over his face. She thought he was a demon?!
When the water didn’t sizzle and Dean had wiped it from his face, Jo felt the stubble on his face and moved her hands down to his arms and his chest, feeling nothing but solid flesh, the sinewy muscles, underneath her fingertips.
“You’re real,” were the only words she spoke. Her voice was laced with incredulity and as her brown orbs locked onto his green ones, Dean could only think of one appropriate response before his lips crashed into hers, his tongue parting her own before fighting for dominance as her hands found their way underneath his shirt, pulling him closer to her.
“Demons lie,” he said before kissing her again, with the intention of never letting her go.