TITLE: Running Up That Hill 1/1

RATING: PG

SPOILER: 5x10 Abandon All Hope

SUMMARY: Set 10 months before AAH, Jo tries to teach Castiel an important lesson – but it's Cas who ends up teaching Dean a lesson.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything to do with the Supernatural franchise.

NOTES: The timeline is set with the idea that AAH happened in September. Story inspired by the song 'Running Up That Hill' by Placebo.

- - 0 – 0 – 0 - -

DECEMBER 2009

"Okay, now place your hand here."

"Here?"

"Yes, right here."

"Dean said that I must respect ones personal space at all times. I feel like this violates his warning."

"Cas, in these kind of circumstances it's okay – you could even be a little closer. Now when I start moving I want you to copy what I'm doing. But not too fast. Just go nice and slow – we'll build up to it."

Dean looked up from the hunting journal he was writing in. Eyebrows raised, he leant back in his chair to spy on the activities going on in the next room. Castiel stood in the middle of the living room with his arms held out in front of him, and a confused look on his face. In between his stiff arms, Jo stood patiently attempting to guide the awkward Angels hands towards her waist.

'Oh this should be good', Dean mused grabbing his beer, and making his way to the living room. It was Christmas Eve and Bobby had pulled a few guilt strings to convince the Winchester's and the Harvelle's to spend Christmas in South Dakota. Sam and Dean immediately made their excuses, but before the two could argue; a freak snowstorm had hit, successfully blocking all the roads leading out of town. Since there wasn't a chance in hell that Dean would fly – the brothers left the motel and made their way begrudgingly to Bobby's. Upon arrival they discovered Ellen and Jo in a similar state, unloading their belongings from Ellen's station wagon.

Sam still suspected foul play over the mysterious storm, but keep his complaints to a minimum when he saw the effort Bobby had gone to in decorating the normally dark and dusty house. Dean himself was rather impressed that a wheel chair had not stopped Bobby from draping tinsel, lights and strange ornaments throughout the house. Not since their childhood had the Winchester boys seen Bobby's house looking so festive. The deal breaker for Dean was when he discovered the assortment of pies cooling on the stove tops.

Dragging his thoughts to the present, Dean hesitated by the doorway separating the study from the living room. Upstairs, Ellen and Bobby had long since retired to bed, and Sam was curled up in an awkward position asleep on the couch.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" Dean spoke up, casually leaning against the door frame.

Castiel turned his head towards him, immediately dropping his hands to his side. "Joanna is teaching me how to dance," Castiel explained, self-consciously tugging at the tie around his next.

"It's Jo," the petite blonde corrected Castiel with a roll of her eyes. "Remember Cas? Just Jo. Only my mother calls me Joanna - and that's usually when I'm in trouble."

Castiel opened his mouth to apologize when Dean interrupted him. "You're teaching him to dance?" He teased with a smirk prominent on his face. "Why?"

"Why not?" Jo challenged all pink cheeked, and amused. Rocking a pair of skin tight black jeans and a hooded red sweater, Dean couldn't help but admire the curves displayed before him. A faint warning bell went off inside Dean's head as his thoughts quickly lead him to a certain fantasy he'd occupied since the day they'd met. Taking a sip of his beer, Dean swallowed his inappropriate thoughts and concentrated instead on the amusing scene before him.

Jo reached down to pick up Castiel's right hand. She placed it neatly on her hip, and took his other hand in hers. Castiel stared blankly at her, and Dean chuckled when we caught the glimmer of panic in the Angels eyes. Dean quickly took a sip of his beer to hide his amusement – he'd seen the same panicked, embarrassed look on Castiel's face in a brothel, and it had been just as funny then as it was now.

"I do not believe I am doing this correctly."

Dean snorted while Jo let out an exasperated sigh. "That's because we haven't started yet. Now when I take a step back with this foot, I want you to take a step forward with this foot." She tapped his left thigh, and demonstrated how she would take a step backwards.

'Dude looks like he's gonna hurl,' Dean thought to himself with a smile. He watched as Jo repeated her motions, and touched Castiel's upper thigh again. Castiel flinched, and if Dean didn't know any better, he'd think the hundreds of years old Angel was about to discover what having an erection was like for the first time.

"Ouch!"

"I apologize."

Jo shook her head. "It's okay, just try not to step on my foot. Try to place your foot here… just before mine." Slowly Jo took another step backwards, and urged Castiel to follow. "Great! Okay, now we are going to step sideways. Ready?" She took a small step to her left, and Dean couldn't help but laugh when Castiel took an enormous step to the right. "Small steps, Cas. Small steps."

"Oh." He tried to correct his mistake by taking another step back towards their original position. Before Jo could readjust her position he took another large step sideways and Jo tripped over his feet. "This appears to be more complicated than I had first anticipated."

"It's okay, Cas. Really. We'll just try again."

"Should I grab the first aid kit?" Dean quipped, earning a glare from Jo.

"Leave him alone," she threatened, pushing a lock of hair out of her eyes. "I bet you don't even know how to dance."

"Of course I know how to dance," Dean argued with a self-assured grin. "But I've found over the years that monsters don't appreciate my ability to perform the 'Thriller' moves on cue, and are more interested in throwing my ass down a flight of stairs." He took a drag of his beer. "Besides, I don't know why you're bothering. It's not like he's ever going to need to know how to bust a move when he's in the middle of a war."

Jo frowned, her hands falling away from Castiel's. The Angel remained standing stock still, his eyebrow raised in confusion over their argument. "I'm not suggesting Castiel breaks into the chicken dance to win a battle, Dean. I'm just trying to show him some fun. You know, something other than picking up girls and getting drunk?"

Dean opened his mouth to bite back a response when Castiel let out a heavy sigh. "I did not enjoy having a lap dance. It hurt."

"Excuse me?" Jo exclaimed crossing her arms over her chest defensively and staring at the Angel warily.

"He's not kidding," Dean remarked, laughing at her expression. "The stripper slapped him and set the bouncers on us."

"Why?" Jo looked concerned. "What did you do to her?"

Dean lent backwards and placed his beer on the desk, before entering the living room and approaching Jo. "He told her that when her daddy ran off it wasn't her fault."

"Oh." Jo shook her head disapprovingly at Castiel. "Of all the things you could have said to her, I bet that was the one thing she wasn't prepared to hear." She glanced up at Dean uncertainly as he entered her personal space. "Why am I not surprised that you thought it was a great idea to take him to a strip club?"

Dean shrugged, and pushed Castiel to the side. "Move over Bigfoot. I'll show you how it's done." Dean reached out and wrapped his arm around Jo's waist. Picking up her hand, he gently wove his fingers through hers. Jo's face was a mix of surprise and amusement. He pulled her to his chest roughly, and grinned at Castiel. "See Cas," he turned to the Angel who was staring at them with a look of deep concentration on his face. Dean knew without a doubt he was studying their stance and committing it to memory. "Girls aren't so scary."

Jo huffed. "Say's who?" With a smirk she straightened her shoulders. "Alright Deano – show us your best moves."

"I need some music first." Dean complained, and nodded at Cas. "Turn that radio up over there." Castiel ducked around the bushy Christmas tree and reached over to turn on the radio. A few seconds of static burst through the room before it was gently replaced with a familiar song. Dean groaned. "REO? You totally set this up."

Jo shook her head innocently, a delighted smile stretching across her face. "I swear I didn't," she promised. "Can I help it that this radio station has good taste?"

"That's debatable." Dean argued, and readjusted his grip on Jo's fingers. "Fine. Let's do this."

"Oh, I bet you say that to all the girls." Jo remarked dryly, but before she could tease him any further he took a confident step forward. Jo smiled as he guided them into a perfect complete square. She glanced over at Castiel who was watching their feet eager fascination. "See, Cas. It's forward, side, back, side, forward." They repeated the same square slowly, allowing the Angel the chance to see exactly how big his steps should be and what direction he should move.

"And if you really want to win the girl over-" Dean smirked. "You should do this." He spun Jo in a circle before capturing her back in his arms and dipping her backwards. Jo burst out into giggles and when he lifted her back up, her eyes were wide with joy. "See, Cas? It gets 'em all gooey every time."

Jo snorted, and rolled her eyes, but a smile still stained her pink lips. "May I see it again? It appears to be quite complicated." Castiel asked, his face drawn tight with concentration.

Dean repeated the move with a grin, this time lowering Jo a little further back and slowly pulling her back up to his chest. He glanced back at the Angel over his shoulder. "The key is not to do it too many times - or when she's been drinking. Otherwise it's over red rover, and usually all over your shoes."

"Ew… Dean," Jo complained and shook her head. "But he's right. You don't want to be showy all the time. Sometimes a simple sway is nice."

"Sway?"

"Yeah, a sway is good." Dean agreed, and pulled Jo close to his chest. As her arms wound gently around his neck he caught a delectable waft of cinnamon and vanilla, and he tried to discreetly breathe her in while wrapping his arms around her waist.

"This is a move most common with guys who don't want to admit they can't dance, so they pretend they are being really romantic," Jo explained to Castiel.

"And while she rests her head on my chest," Dean butted in, and gently guided Jo's head to his chest. "I'm now free to check out all the other chicks on the dance floor – just in case it doesn't work out with this one."

"Dean!" Jo protested with a laugh and shoved him backwards. She walked over to Castiel and resumed their earlier position. "Don't listen to a word he says, Cas." She warned him, and placed the Angels hand on her hip. "He doesn't know anything about women."

"That's not what that hot waitress said back at that bar the other night."

"You're disgusting."

"And you're so easy to bait."

"And you're a man whore."

"I've been called worse things." Dean admitted with a shrug. Jo snorted and when Castiel accidentally trod on Jo's bare feet again, Dean grabbed Jo's wrist. "Oh come here." Dean insisted with laugh. "Come on. I'll be good." With a small tug, he managed to draw her back to his side and wrapped an arm around her waist. Begrudgingly Jo placed her hands on his shoulders, and pretended she was bored. He grinned down at her and began to sway back and forth slowly. "See? I can be nice."

"Yeah, Yeah," Jo begrudgingly agreed. "But if those hands go any lower buddy, you're gonna meet the business end of my foot."

"What like… this?" Dean quickly slid his hands under her ass and scooped her up, twirling her as he did so. Jo burst into laughter and attempted to wiggle free, but he held on tightly.

"Dean, put me down!"

"You're not so tough now are you?" He teased, spinning them around while laughing at her shrieks of protests.

"Lemme go!" She cried out between giggles. "Dean, watch out!" Throwing her hands up to shield her face from the low hanging tinsel on the ceiling, a fresh batch of laughter filled the room as the tinsel came free from the ceiling and wound it's way around Jo's body. Dean allowed her to slide half way down as she attempted to bat her way out of the thick tinsel. "Dean, help." Jo pleaded, one arm wrapping around his shoulder to stop herself from falling; while the other hand tried to free herself from the ropes of tinsel around her.

Laughing, Dean left one arm under her ass, while the other reached up to her assist her. Once she was safely untangled, he allowed her to slide back down his body. Jo grinned up at him, her eyes shinning as she reached up to yank a piece of tinsel from around his shoulders. In that moment Dean felt like he had never seen her more beautiful or alive.

A flash of white light blinded Dean temporarily, and he turned to the source of its location, and found Castiel holding a camera in front of his face. "Cas!" Dean stepped back from Jo so he could rub his eyes. Large black dots shadowed the middle of his vision. "What did you do that for? I'm blind."

"I was curious as to how it functions." Castiel answered simply. He turned the camera around to inspect the lens and hit the same button, blinding himself.

Jo burst out laughing as the Angel stumbled around slightly, furiously rubbing his own eyes. "It functions by blinding people," she explained, still laughing at his reaction.

"It would make for an effective weapon in battle."

Dean chuckled, imaging the scene in his head. "My God, this stuff is everywhere." He looked down and found Jo still struggling her way out of some errant tinsel. Pieces that had snapped off now clung to her hair in silver tuffs, and he reached forward to help her.

"Here." Finding the end of the tinsel he used one hand to keep her still, while the other unraveled a piece from the hood of her sweater and lifted it up and over her head. "Ok, now you're free."

"Thanks."

She yanked a broken off piece from the front of her sweater and then reached up and pulled out the elastic in her hair. Dean watched bemused as she shook her head back and forth and tousled her hair with her hand. The final remaining piece of tinsel fell free. "Nice," he quipped appreciatively under his breath.

"What?" She asked, looking up at him curiously.

"Nothin'."

"Oh." She turned to survey the damage of the floor. "Oh man, we did a number on Bobby's tinsel." Jo bent down to pick it all up when Dean's hand stopped her. "What?" She asked curiously, her fingers running through her hair self-consciously. "Did I miss a bit?"

"No," Dean assured her, and stilled the hand that was working its way through the ends of her curls. "Something better." He pointed to the door frame above them with a mischievous smile.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Dean that isn't mistletoe – that's a weed."

"Why would Bobby stick a weed on his door?"

"I didn't say Bobby was the one that did it."

"Then who did?"

Jo served him with a dubious look. "My best guess would be the same person who took a holy being to a brothel and tried to corrupt him," Jo accused throwing a piece of tinsel at Dean's face.

Smirking, Dean tried to feign ignorance and tugged Jo back towards the doorway. "Come on, where's your Christmas spirit?"

"My Christmas spirit is telling me not to fall for a known con-artists such as yourself." She pushed away from him - but he caught her hand.

"I may be a con-artist; but you're no angel."

Jo snorted. "And don't you forget it, Mr."

"One kiss?" Dean pleaded playfully, batting his eyelashes for extra effect.

"Sure," Jo agreed quickly, surprising Dean. He felt a rush of excitement flood his body as he bent down to kiss her. To his surprise he was met with her raised hand. "I didn't say you could kiss my lips," she explained, her smile coy. "You can be a gentleman and kiss my hand though."

Dean rolled his eyes, and pulled her hand down. "Of all the things I've been called Jo - "Gentleman" was not one of them."

Beaming, Jo took a step back from him. "Okay than Princess, but you will just have to settle for Mrs Palmer and her five lovely daughters." She wiggled her fingers at him with a sassy look on her face.

Dean took a brazen step forward, humor lacing his tone. The thrill of the chase pounded deep inside him, and he'd been lying if he said her resistance didn't make her all the more desirable. "I was only after a kiss," he started. "But I'll take it as a compliment that your brain automatically thinks about my other needs." He leaned closer to her until he was inches from her face.

Jo's cheeks darkened. "I didn't mean I was going to give you a hand job-" she cut herself short, ducking her head in embarrassment. "You know what I meant."

"You're looking a little flushed there Jo – you feeling a little 'hot' all of a sudden?"

Before the red-faced blonde had a chance to retort, Sam cleared his throat loudly at the doorway. "What are you guys doing?"

Startled, Dean whirled around to face his brother. "Huh?" His eyes narrowed when he saw the accusing look on Sam's face. "I thought you were asleep?"

"The music woke me up."

"Right."

Jo, who had instantly distanced herself significantly from Dean, resumed picking up the broken tinsel she had abandoned earlier. "We were just teaching Castiel how to dance."

Sam viewed them both with skepticism. "How are you supposed to do that when he isn't even in the room?"

Jo and Dean looked around the room, having finally realized that the quiet unassuming angel had disappeared. "Hmm, He must have flown off." Dean mused, heading to the study and grabbing his now luke warm beer.

"Uh-huh." Sam crossed his hands over his chest, and regarded the two with a knowing smile.

Looking somewhat embarrassed, Jo avoided Sam's eyes as she dumped the tinsel back onto the overstuffed Christmas tree. "He's telling the truth, Sam. Dean decided to help me when Castiel kept standing on my foot."

Momentarily distracted from his line of questioning he glanced at Dean astonished. "Since when do you know how to dance?"

Dean grinned smugly, and took a long sip of his beer. "I'm a man of many skills, Sammy."

"Doing the moon walk is not a skill."

"It is if you're an astronaut."

"But you're not an astronaut."

"That's right – I'm batman."

"Dean-"

"I'm going to bed," Jo announced, breaking into the brothers fight while she still had the chance. She waved at both of them as she headed towards the staircase. "Night guys."

"Huh? Oh night." Dean called after her, and drained the rest of his beer. When he turned towards the kitchen he noticed that Sam was staring at him with an critical gaze. "Dude, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Stupid idea is all I'm saying."

"What?" Dean entered the kitchen, and reached into the fridge to retrieve a new beer. Popping the cap off, he leaned back against the kitchen table and noticed Sam shaking his head. "What?" He cried, growing frustrated.

"Jo, Dean?"

"What about Jo?"

"She's Ellen's daughter."

"Thanks Captain obvious – I've known that for some time now."

"Dean, what ever happened to not shitting in our own backyard?"

Snorting, the elder Winchester shoved past his brother roughly and returned to his earlier seat behind the desk. "First off we don't even have a backyard or a home for that matter… and second…" He paused, taking a sip of his drink while he thought over his answer. "And second… it was just a dance. I didn't sleep with her."

"Yet," Sam challenged.

"No.. not yet.. There is no 'yet'. I'm not going to sleep with her," Dean protested. "I can control myself, you know – I don't have to sleep with every good looking female I see."

"So you think she's hot." The smile on Sam's face grew wider as Dean feigned ignorance.

"Huh?"

"Jo," Sam continued. "You think she's good looking."

"And?" The younger Winchester chortled as his brother's face grew dark. "Shut your big stupid face before I shut it for you."

Sam sighed, and resumed his position back down on the couch. "All I'm saying is; stupid idea, Dean."

"Enough." Dean snapped, having grown frustrated and tired from his brothers constant mocking. He returned his attention to the hunting journal. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to be having this conversation with you, and you're making my head hurt."

"So if you were drunk enough you'd admit that you'd sleep with her?"

"Sam!"

- - 0 – 0 – 0 - -

SEPTEMBER 2010

"Dean?"

"Not now, Cas" Dean marched towards the back of Bobby's junkyard. He needed to escape. He needed to hit something. He needed…He needed the last twenty-four hours to disappear from his memory. He needed a time machine. All he wanted was to go back, to fix everything, to undo so many mistakes.

He could still smell her blood on his jacket.

"Dean." Castiel persisted in following him through a maze of scrap metal until Dean hit a dead end. He stared at the mountain of wreckage in front of him, and kept his back to the Angel.

"Whatever you came to say you can tell me later, ok? I'm busy."

"I wanted to give you something," The Angel insisted in a low voice, coming to a stop beside him. "Something important."

"Can it wait?" Dean pleaded, turning his face away in shame. He was close to loosing it. He could feel himself slowly losing a grip on everything that he had bound so tightly back in the hardware store. There was a significant pressure behind his eyes, and his throat had constricted to the point were he could barely breath. His knuckles itched to make contact with something, anything that would relieve the pain and the guilt in his chest.

"Yes, I suppose it could."

"Good," Dean muttered, concentrating on the rusting grill a few feet above him. He wouldn't break. He wouldn't. Not now. Not after everything. He was strong. He could do this; he just needed a few seconds to calm down. He just needed a few seconds away from everyone's sympathetic glances and knowing stares. He needed to gain control or else face the fact that he might fall and never get up again. It was too much. He couldn't bare any more weight. God, she was so much braver then him. "I need you to go now, Cas."

Silence.

Dean's shoulders sagged. He turned to look for somewhere dry to hide for a few hours when he discovered that Castiel was still standing beside him. Anger surged to the surface, and he opened his mouth to hurl abuse at the Angel when he shoved a white envelope into shaking hands. "I think it would be more appropriate if I give this to you now."

"What is it?" Dean snapped, refusing to open the envelope.

"A memory."

Annoyed by the Angels cryptic answer, Dean stared at the envelope for a few seconds before finally deciding to open it. Inside, his fingers skimmed the gloss surface of a large photograph. He withdrew the photo. A black and white picture of himself laughing with Jo covered in tinsel. His arms were around her, and she was wearing his favorite mega watt smile. The smile that could annoyingly convince him to do anything she wanted. Dean recognized the captured scene instantly. It was from Christmas last year. They had been dancing.

If he had just known then what he knew now…

"I believe the instrument in which to capture such memories is a valuable invention," Castiel spoke up, his tone somber. When Dean didn't respond he continued. "I had copies made while you were sleeping. I gave Jo the other one before we departed yesterday and she placed it inside a journal. Is it not customary to place them in ones wallet?"

"Not always, Cas." Dean croaked, his fingers clutching the photo tightly. The sound of her screams from the day before echoed in his ears painfully; he was quick to shove the photo back into its envelope.

"Will you burn this one too?" The Angel inquired, staring at him thoughtfully.

Dean shook his head slowly. "No." He turned away from the Angel and resumed gazing at the wall of batted steel in front of him. As Castiel turned to depart, Dean managed to open his mouth long enough to omit a few heavy words. "Thank you, Cas."

A fluttering of wings notified the Angels absence and Dean was left standing in the rain alone.

End

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