Mad World (Supernatural-T) 3/3 - COMPLETE
Posted: Wed Jun 13, 2007 4:51 pm
Title: Mad World
Rating: Teen
Fandom/Pairing: Supernatural – Sam, Dean, Jo (D/J)
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Summary: Dean’s gone and Sam is left alone. Armed with only a letter, he goes on a journey to search for his brother.
A/N: Cross-posted at Fanfiction.net and Livejournal
<center>Part I: Worn out places, worn out faces</center>
It’s a quarter to midnight and the roads are slick with rain. Sam grips the wheel as he tries to keep the car on the road. He looks down at the piece of folded up paper on the seat beside him and clenches his jaw. He doesn’t quite understand Dean’s reasoning but knows that it’s what his brother wants and Sam always does whatever Dean wants.
By the time he arrives at the apartment complex just outside of Chicago, he can barely keep his eyes open. He opens the door and drags himself out of the car. He looks down at the address on the piece of paper he holds in his hand and squints at the bank of names on the door buzzer. When his eyes land on the matching number, he quickly presses the button and waits. He’s a little nervous, his posture hunched over like he’s trying to brace himself for an oncoming blow. Finally, static comes over the speaker before a female voice groggily asks who it is.
“It’s Sam,” he replies. The person on the other end doesn’t answer, merely releases the locks on the front door allowing Sam to enter. He makes his way to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. He steps out on the third floor and begins to count the apartment doors. He arrives at apartment 315 and notices that the door is ajar.
Sam’s nerves once again get the better of him and he hesitates in the hallway, unsure whether he read his brother’s note correctly. No, he knows that Dean would never joke about something like this. So, he pushes the door open, knocking softly to announce his presence.
“Come in, Sam,” the woman says. Sam’s eyes adjust to the dim lighting in the apartment, finding her seated on the couch. “I was wondering how long it would take you guys to find me.”
“Jo,” he greets, his voice coming out a little hoarse. He looks her over, noting all the changes since the last time he saw her.
Her hair was shorter, pulled into a messy ponytail that sat atop her head. He noticed that she had filled out, her body more mature and curvy than before. She also had a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite describe something between suspicion and worry. He shifts on his feet and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.
The last time he had seen her had been almost two years ago. He and Dean were eating at a diner just outside of Sioux City, Iowa when Jo had walked in. Sam hadn’t seen her at first since his back was turned. However, the same couldn’t be said about his brother. As soon as he locked eyes with Jo, Dean’s teasing expression had turned into a scowl, his eyes fixed on the front door. Sam turned and caught Jo frozen with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.
“What the hell,” Dean had muttered and stood up from the booth.
“Dean,” Sam warned, not knowing what his brother was about to do, but judging from the expression on his face knew that it wouldn’t be good.
He watched Dean grab Jo by the sleeve of her jacket, dragging her outside where they proceeded to argue. He tried to ignore them but their volume made it hard to do. Sam guessed that Jo had won the argument when a few minutes later, she walked back into the diner with a triumphant smile on her face while his brother followed closely behind her glaring at her back.
She stayed with them after that, helping them on hunts. Sam began to think of her as a good friend, almost like family. He thought it nice to have a girl along on their long road trips, helping pass the time. He loved his brother but it was different with Jo. She made him laugh and she was fun. When Dean would go hang out at the local bar, Jo would stay with him, keeping him company or helping him research. He never really understood what went on between Jo and his brother. Most times they would argue but sometimes, when they thought Sam wasn’t looking, they would share secret smiles and lingering looks. Sam thought it was weird but never said a word. Things went on as they were until six months later, when Jo abruptly left without a word to him or his brother.
“Have a seat,” Jo invites, moving to get up from the couch. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah,” Sam replies, folding himself into the couch. He watches her move into the kitchen, quietly grabbing a glass from the cupboard.
“I’d offer you a beer but all I have is milk and orange juice,” Jo shrugs.
Sam smiles. “Juice would be great.”
He feels the paper crinkle in his pocket reminding him of the reason he was there.
“Listen, Jo,” he says but is unsure how to say what he needed to say. He shakes his head and looks up. He sees her looking at him patiently as she hands him a glass of juice. He quietly thanks her and is about to continue when he hears a muffled cry coming from the bedroom. Before he can ask Jo about the noise, she quickly excuses herself and leaves him alone in the living room.
Sam frowns in confusion, his mind already working at what the answer might be. He feels a horrible sense of dread drop in his stomach. His fears are soon confirmed when Jo exits the bedroom carrying a small bundle in her arms.
Sam stands and rubs his sweaty palms down his pants and stares at Jo. She coos and rocks the small bundle as she makes her way into the living room.
“Who’s –” Sam trails off his eyes fixed on the baby cradled in her arms. The question is on the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he watches her, an expression of confusion and awe on his face, as she settles on the armchair across from him.
“This is Mary Ann,” Jo says, shifting so that her daughter rests comfortably in the crook of her arm.
Sam starts to put two and two together and the feeling of dread gets worse. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Jo gently pushes the hair off her daughter’s forehead in a gesture so maternal that Sam feels a lump in the back of his throat.
“Is it,” Sam stumbles over his words. “Is she…?” He trails off not knowing how to continue.
Jo doesn’t answer. Instead, she nods her head in acknowledgement.
Sam leans back flummoxed.
“Oh wow,” he breathes, his hands unconsciously rubbing the tops of his thighs. “Oh wow,” he repeats just for good measure.
Jo smiles and Sam thinks that she should do it more often because it lights up her whole face.
“Yeah,” Jo replies. “She is pretty wow.”
The corner of Sam’s lip twitches into a smile. A baby. Never in a million years would he have thought of Joanna Harvelle as a mother but here she was, on her own, raising her daughter.
“Would you like to hold her?” Jo asks, leaning forward to offer her child to Sam. He nods his head as he holds out his arms, a goofy smile ghosting his lips.
Jo gently places the baby in his arms and Sam can’t help but inhale her scent. She smells like baby powder and fresh laundry and he thinks that he’d never smelled anything better.
He rubs his knuckle against her chubby cheek and watches as her mouth puckers and sucks as if she’s looking for a nipple. He chuckles as his eyes continue to roam over her angelic face. Her wispy blonde hair is soft against his arms that he thinks that they feel like balls of cotton. He notices that even in sleep that she’s frowning as if she’s concentrating on something in her dreams. It reminds him of…
“Is she…?” He trails off. He knows he doesn’t have to complete the question by the expression on Jo’s face.
“Yeah,” is all she says, giving him a bittersweet smile.
“Does he know?” Sam asks, frowning.
Jo shakes her head, her fingers clutching little Mary Ann’s baby blanket.
“Is this why you left?” He asks and he can’t help but sound a little angry when he does.
Jo shrugs. “Sort of.”
“Why?” Sam asks. “You should have told us. We could have helped you. Dean would have been there for you.”
Jo averts her eyes, staring off into space. “I wanted to stay. I really did,” she explains. “That whole last week, I was thinking of ways on how to tell Dean, but I just couldn’t,” she looks forlorn. “I couldn’t do that to the two of you. I’d known all along that you guys had a mission. If I couldn’t help you, I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.”
Sam shakes his head. “You should have told us, Jo. Even if you just told me, I could have helped you with Dean.” He stops and purses his lips. “I thought we were friends.”
Jo looks down ashamed. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she says. “It was better this way.”
“But you’re all alone,” Sam says.
“No, I’m not,” Jo smiles sadly. “I have Mary Ann.”
Sam looks down at the baby who is now wide awake and is curiously staring up at him, with the most beautiful hazel eyes he’s ever seen.
“Hi baby,” Sam says, rubbing Mary Ann’s back. The baby smiles and Sam feels like he’s been punched. He feels tears prick the back of his eyes.
“You don’t know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone and call you guys,” Jo explains.
“Then why didn’t you?” Sam accuses, his words cutting through Jo. He pulls back at her hurt expression, leaning back against the couch.
“I don’t know,” Jo whispers, her fingers still holding tightly to the blanket. “I just thought that you guys would have moved on. You wouldn’t have to be looking out for me anymore.”
“You were never a burden to us, Jo,” Sam assures her. “You’re family.”
Jo smiles sadly at his words and all Sam wants to do is hug her but he doesn’t move. Instead, he sighs and looks down at the child in his arms. She looks so much like his brother that it hurts.
“How old is she?” He asks, never taking his eyes away from his niece.
“She’s eight months old,” Jo replies, her eyes falling to her daughter.
“She’s beautiful,” Sam comments. He laughs when Mary Ann grabs onto his finger, her grip tight like a vice.
“Yeah, she is,” Jo says. She shifts looking slightly uncomfortable. “Where’s your brother, Sam?”
Sam looks up and it takes a minute for Jo’s question to sink in. When it does, his smile fades and his brow furrows.
“That’s what I came to tell you,” Sam says. He shifts on the cushions and digs the letter out of his pocket. He holds out the folded paper to Jo who hesitates for a moment before taking it from him.
Sam watches as she carefully unfolds the paper, her hands shaking slightly. She begins to read the letter, her brows wrinkling as she reads over his brother’s scrawl. He watches as she presses her lips into a thin line as her eyes roam back and forth. A minute later, she lowers the letter and her eyes fall to Sam.
“How long?” Is all she asks.
“Two days ago,” he replies.
Jo shakes her head. “How?”
“I woke up and he was just gone,” he explains. “All he left behind was my duffel bag, some money, and this note. He even took the car. I had to call Bobby to borrow one. I was lucky that he was only a few hours drive away.”
Jo pushes herself up off the chair and runs a hand through her messy ponytail. “Two days ago,” she mumbles. “Shit.”
“What happened?” She asks her back still turned to Sam.
“We were close,” Sam says shifting Mary Ann in his arms. “We found a trail that almost led us to the Yellow Eyed Demon, but we ran into a psychic who warned us to be careful. He said that…” Sam pursed his lips together not quite willing to continue.
“Said what, Sam?” Jo asked her voice serious.
“He said,” Sam swallowed. “That I was in danger. That if we were to pursue the trail that I could possibly die. I guess that’s why Dean left me behind.”
“Damn it, Dean,” Jo softly swears.
Sam looks down at Mary Ann before raising his eyes to Jo. “Now I know why he wanted me to find you.
“He loves you, Jo,” Sam says, his eyes glassy with emotion. “And I’m afraid that he’s gone on his own because he doesn’t think he’s going to come back alive.”
He watches Jo’s shoulders shrug up and down with every deep breath she took. Mary Ann begins to fuss in his arms as if she knows what’s going on.
When she starts to cry, Jo turns and instinctively takes the baby from his arms, cradling Mary Ann against her shoulder as she runs a comforting hand down her daughter’s back.
“Give me an hour to pack,” Jo says before walking away, leaving Sam staring at her figure in the dark.
Rating: Teen
Fandom/Pairing: Supernatural – Sam, Dean, Jo (D/J)
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Summary: Dean’s gone and Sam is left alone. Armed with only a letter, he goes on a journey to search for his brother.
A/N: Cross-posted at Fanfiction.net and Livejournal
<center>Part I: Worn out places, worn out faces</center>
It’s a quarter to midnight and the roads are slick with rain. Sam grips the wheel as he tries to keep the car on the road. He looks down at the piece of folded up paper on the seat beside him and clenches his jaw. He doesn’t quite understand Dean’s reasoning but knows that it’s what his brother wants and Sam always does whatever Dean wants.
By the time he arrives at the apartment complex just outside of Chicago, he can barely keep his eyes open. He opens the door and drags himself out of the car. He looks down at the address on the piece of paper he holds in his hand and squints at the bank of names on the door buzzer. When his eyes land on the matching number, he quickly presses the button and waits. He’s a little nervous, his posture hunched over like he’s trying to brace himself for an oncoming blow. Finally, static comes over the speaker before a female voice groggily asks who it is.
“It’s Sam,” he replies. The person on the other end doesn’t answer, merely releases the locks on the front door allowing Sam to enter. He makes his way to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. He steps out on the third floor and begins to count the apartment doors. He arrives at apartment 315 and notices that the door is ajar.
Sam’s nerves once again get the better of him and he hesitates in the hallway, unsure whether he read his brother’s note correctly. No, he knows that Dean would never joke about something like this. So, he pushes the door open, knocking softly to announce his presence.
“Come in, Sam,” the woman says. Sam’s eyes adjust to the dim lighting in the apartment, finding her seated on the couch. “I was wondering how long it would take you guys to find me.”
“Jo,” he greets, his voice coming out a little hoarse. He looks her over, noting all the changes since the last time he saw her.
Her hair was shorter, pulled into a messy ponytail that sat atop her head. He noticed that she had filled out, her body more mature and curvy than before. She also had a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite describe something between suspicion and worry. He shifts on his feet and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.
The last time he had seen her had been almost two years ago. He and Dean were eating at a diner just outside of Sioux City, Iowa when Jo had walked in. Sam hadn’t seen her at first since his back was turned. However, the same couldn’t be said about his brother. As soon as he locked eyes with Jo, Dean’s teasing expression had turned into a scowl, his eyes fixed on the front door. Sam turned and caught Jo frozen with an expression akin to a deer caught in headlights.
“What the hell,” Dean had muttered and stood up from the booth.
“Dean,” Sam warned, not knowing what his brother was about to do, but judging from the expression on his face knew that it wouldn’t be good.
He watched Dean grab Jo by the sleeve of her jacket, dragging her outside where they proceeded to argue. He tried to ignore them but their volume made it hard to do. Sam guessed that Jo had won the argument when a few minutes later, she walked back into the diner with a triumphant smile on her face while his brother followed closely behind her glaring at her back.
She stayed with them after that, helping them on hunts. Sam began to think of her as a good friend, almost like family. He thought it nice to have a girl along on their long road trips, helping pass the time. He loved his brother but it was different with Jo. She made him laugh and she was fun. When Dean would go hang out at the local bar, Jo would stay with him, keeping him company or helping him research. He never really understood what went on between Jo and his brother. Most times they would argue but sometimes, when they thought Sam wasn’t looking, they would share secret smiles and lingering looks. Sam thought it was weird but never said a word. Things went on as they were until six months later, when Jo abruptly left without a word to him or his brother.
“Have a seat,” Jo invites, moving to get up from the couch. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah,” Sam replies, folding himself into the couch. He watches her move into the kitchen, quietly grabbing a glass from the cupboard.
“I’d offer you a beer but all I have is milk and orange juice,” Jo shrugs.
Sam smiles. “Juice would be great.”
He feels the paper crinkle in his pocket reminding him of the reason he was there.
“Listen, Jo,” he says but is unsure how to say what he needed to say. He shakes his head and looks up. He sees her looking at him patiently as she hands him a glass of juice. He quietly thanks her and is about to continue when he hears a muffled cry coming from the bedroom. Before he can ask Jo about the noise, she quickly excuses herself and leaves him alone in the living room.
Sam frowns in confusion, his mind already working at what the answer might be. He feels a horrible sense of dread drop in his stomach. His fears are soon confirmed when Jo exits the bedroom carrying a small bundle in her arms.
Sam stands and rubs his sweaty palms down his pants and stares at Jo. She coos and rocks the small bundle as she makes her way into the living room.
“Who’s –” Sam trails off his eyes fixed on the baby cradled in her arms. The question is on the tip of his tongue but he doesn’t ask. Instead, he watches her, an expression of confusion and awe on his face, as she settles on the armchair across from him.
“This is Mary Ann,” Jo says, shifting so that her daughter rests comfortably in the crook of her arm.
Sam starts to put two and two together and the feeling of dread gets worse. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Jo gently pushes the hair off her daughter’s forehead in a gesture so maternal that Sam feels a lump in the back of his throat.
“Is it,” Sam stumbles over his words. “Is she…?” He trails off not knowing how to continue.
Jo doesn’t answer. Instead, she nods her head in acknowledgement.
Sam leans back flummoxed.
“Oh wow,” he breathes, his hands unconsciously rubbing the tops of his thighs. “Oh wow,” he repeats just for good measure.
Jo smiles and Sam thinks that she should do it more often because it lights up her whole face.
“Yeah,” Jo replies. “She is pretty wow.”
The corner of Sam’s lip twitches into a smile. A baby. Never in a million years would he have thought of Joanna Harvelle as a mother but here she was, on her own, raising her daughter.
“Would you like to hold her?” Jo asks, leaning forward to offer her child to Sam. He nods his head as he holds out his arms, a goofy smile ghosting his lips.
Jo gently places the baby in his arms and Sam can’t help but inhale her scent. She smells like baby powder and fresh laundry and he thinks that he’d never smelled anything better.
He rubs his knuckle against her chubby cheek and watches as her mouth puckers and sucks as if she’s looking for a nipple. He chuckles as his eyes continue to roam over her angelic face. Her wispy blonde hair is soft against his arms that he thinks that they feel like balls of cotton. He notices that even in sleep that she’s frowning as if she’s concentrating on something in her dreams. It reminds him of…
“Is she…?” He trails off. He knows he doesn’t have to complete the question by the expression on Jo’s face.
“Yeah,” is all she says, giving him a bittersweet smile.
“Does he know?” Sam asks, frowning.
Jo shakes her head, her fingers clutching little Mary Ann’s baby blanket.
“Is this why you left?” He asks and he can’t help but sound a little angry when he does.
Jo shrugs. “Sort of.”
“Why?” Sam asks. “You should have told us. We could have helped you. Dean would have been there for you.”
Jo averts her eyes, staring off into space. “I wanted to stay. I really did,” she explains. “That whole last week, I was thinking of ways on how to tell Dean, but I just couldn’t,” she looks forlorn. “I couldn’t do that to the two of you. I’d known all along that you guys had a mission. If I couldn’t help you, I didn’t want to stand in the way of that.”
Sam shakes his head. “You should have told us, Jo. Even if you just told me, I could have helped you with Dean.” He stops and purses his lips. “I thought we were friends.”
Jo looks down ashamed. “I’m sorry, Sam,” she says. “It was better this way.”
“But you’re all alone,” Sam says.
“No, I’m not,” Jo smiles sadly. “I have Mary Ann.”
Sam looks down at the baby who is now wide awake and is curiously staring up at him, with the most beautiful hazel eyes he’s ever seen.
“Hi baby,” Sam says, rubbing Mary Ann’s back. The baby smiles and Sam feels like he’s been punched. He feels tears prick the back of his eyes.
“You don’t know how many times I wanted to pick up the phone and call you guys,” Jo explains.
“Then why didn’t you?” Sam accuses, his words cutting through Jo. He pulls back at her hurt expression, leaning back against the couch.
“I don’t know,” Jo whispers, her fingers still holding tightly to the blanket. “I just thought that you guys would have moved on. You wouldn’t have to be looking out for me anymore.”
“You were never a burden to us, Jo,” Sam assures her. “You’re family.”
Jo smiles sadly at his words and all Sam wants to do is hug her but he doesn’t move. Instead, he sighs and looks down at the child in his arms. She looks so much like his brother that it hurts.
“How old is she?” He asks, never taking his eyes away from his niece.
“She’s eight months old,” Jo replies, her eyes falling to her daughter.
“She’s beautiful,” Sam comments. He laughs when Mary Ann grabs onto his finger, her grip tight like a vice.
“Yeah, she is,” Jo says. She shifts looking slightly uncomfortable. “Where’s your brother, Sam?”
Sam looks up and it takes a minute for Jo’s question to sink in. When it does, his smile fades and his brow furrows.
“That’s what I came to tell you,” Sam says. He shifts on the cushions and digs the letter out of his pocket. He holds out the folded paper to Jo who hesitates for a moment before taking it from him.
Sam watches as she carefully unfolds the paper, her hands shaking slightly. She begins to read the letter, her brows wrinkling as she reads over his brother’s scrawl. He watches as she presses her lips into a thin line as her eyes roam back and forth. A minute later, she lowers the letter and her eyes fall to Sam.
“How long?” Is all she asks.
“Two days ago,” he replies.
Jo shakes her head. “How?”
“I woke up and he was just gone,” he explains. “All he left behind was my duffel bag, some money, and this note. He even took the car. I had to call Bobby to borrow one. I was lucky that he was only a few hours drive away.”
Jo pushes herself up off the chair and runs a hand through her messy ponytail. “Two days ago,” she mumbles. “Shit.”
“What happened?” She asks her back still turned to Sam.
“We were close,” Sam says shifting Mary Ann in his arms. “We found a trail that almost led us to the Yellow Eyed Demon, but we ran into a psychic who warned us to be careful. He said that…” Sam pursed his lips together not quite willing to continue.
“Said what, Sam?” Jo asked her voice serious.
“He said,” Sam swallowed. “That I was in danger. That if we were to pursue the trail that I could possibly die. I guess that’s why Dean left me behind.”
“Damn it, Dean,” Jo softly swears.
Sam looks down at Mary Ann before raising his eyes to Jo. “Now I know why he wanted me to find you.
“He loves you, Jo,” Sam says, his eyes glassy with emotion. “And I’m afraid that he’s gone on his own because he doesn’t think he’s going to come back alive.”
He watches Jo’s shoulders shrug up and down with every deep breath she took. Mary Ann begins to fuss in his arms as if she knows what’s going on.
When she starts to cry, Jo turns and instinctively takes the baby from his arms, cradling Mary Ann against her shoulder as she runs a comforting hand down her daughter’s back.
“Give me an hour to pack,” Jo says before walking away, leaving Sam staring at her figure in the dark.