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The Road Less Travelled	By : Bumble Category: Supernatural > Het - Male/Female Views: 3389 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Chapter One
- 1
I hope an author's note is acceptable at this point. I have been working on this fic for over three years. It begins with the final scene of the season 4 finale. I have included all the tags I think the story will need but there is no actual sex for the first few chapters (it will depend how I split it) so there is some UST in that time. It will take plots and situations from season 5 and onwards but will not follow canon faithfully. This is my first ever fan fiction post and while I welcome any and all criticism, I ask that you be gentle with me. ;-)

Chapter One

'Come on, Sammy! Let's go!' Dean yelled, pulling at his brother's jacket.
Sam stood transfixed, watching the blinding white light erupting from the ground in the centre of Lilith's spilt blood. A roaring sound filled their heads as the ground beneath them trembled. Dean found himself rooted to the spot but he knew they had to get out of there. Before he came.
'Come on!' He yelled again, not knowing if his brother could hear him over the unidentified roar. This time he physically dragged Sam away, out through the door he'd only moments before knocked to the ground, through the convent and outside to the waiting Impala. Pushing Sam into the car, he ran around the other side and jumped in, not pausing between slamming the door, starting the engine and getting the hell out of there.
'Dean, we have to go back! We have to stop him!'
'How? How Sammy? You strong enough to stop Lucifer himself now?'
Sam dropped his head, mumbling into his chest, 'I've lost my powers.'
Dean's head whipped around to look at his brother, a million emotions fighting for supremacy inside him. 'Well,' he said eventually, 'that's not such a bad thing.'
'I mean it Dean,' Sam implored, 'I'm sorry. I am so sorry.'
He clenched his jaw, staring at the road ahead of him. He didn't speak for a long time, and when he did he said, 'Call Bobby. Tell him what's happened. We're going to need all the help we can get.'
He stared out of the windscreen as Sam made the call, not hearing the one-sided conversation. There were so many thoughts in his head he thought it might explode. Zachariah had told him that he would be the one to stop Lucifer, that it had to be him. But he didn't know how. All he had was Ruby's knife and he was pretty damn sure that it didn't work against Archangels. Castiel had told him that he'd been raised from hell to do God's work, but Zachariah had said...what was it? That God had left the building. What the hell did that mean?
'DEAN!' Sam yelled, bringing him back to the present.
'What?' Dean felt as if he was returning the Impala from very long way away.
'Bobby says to get there as soon as we can. He said he can help.'
Dean glanced at his watch; it was a good twenty hour drive from where they were to Bobby's place up in South Dakota. 'Try to get some sleep, Sammy. You're going to need it.'
The road passed beneath him, hour after hour, mile after mile. They stopped for gas as and when the Impala's needle flickered towards empty, and once at a diner just outside Chicago, but otherwise they pushed on through the day and most of the next night. It was almost 8pm when they pulled up outside Bobby's ramshackle house and, although tired, both of them were alert and running on adrenalin.
Dean reached the door first and pounded on it. They waited a moment, but no sounds came from inside. Sam frowned as Dean pounded again, and the door swung back a crack, as if it was on the latch. Dean looked at Sam before pulling his beloved Colt 1911 from the back of his jeans. Sam followed suit as Dean cautiously pushed the door open.
In the hall, just a few feet from the door, Bobby lay on the floor. There was no blood, or even signs of a struggle. Dean knelt over him, gun still cocked, eyes scanning the room, to rest his fingers on Bobby's neck. 'He's alive.'
Sam's face reflected the overwhelming relief that Dean felt. 'I'll check downstairs, you go upstairs.'
Dean nodded, his gun leading the way as he took the stairs one at a time, trying to be as quiet as possible. His eyes never stopped scanning the room, looking for anything out of place or unusual. There was nothing. Upstairs he checked room by room, finding nothing out of the ordinary. At the last door he paused, a strange feeling washing over him, although not an unpleasant one. For reasons he could not fathom, he let his gun drop to his side as he pushed the door open.
'Hello Dean,' Castiel said. He had his back to the doorway, standing in front of the window.
'Cas...' Dean murmured, stepping into the room. 'I'm guessing you pulled your touched by an angel routine on Bobby. How did you —'
'So, this is Dean Winchester.'
The voice behind him made him jump, not least because the female English accented owner immediately made him think of Bela. He whirled around, but found himself face to face with someone very un-Bela-like indeed. She was almost as tall as him, with long, dark hair that snaked over her shoulders in lazy, meandering curls, and green eyes that latched themselves steadily onto his own.
'Who are you? Yet another angel?' He asked, turning to glance at Castiel, who still had his back to him.
She laughed, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. And what the hell was that feeling spreading through him? Just looking at her made him feel...he didn't know. But it wasn't a bad feeling at all. 'Far from it, sweetheart.'
'This is Jessica,' Castiel said in his emotionless tone. 'She's going to help you.'
Dean couldn't stop the snort of laughter. 'You're giving me a girl?'
Jessica rolled her eyes, peering over Dean's shoulder at Castiel. 'I still haven't agreed to help him, Cas.'
'You don't have a choice.' Castiel replied, finally turning away from the window. 'This is how it is meant to be.'
Turning away from Jessica, Dean faced Castiel. 'How what's meant to be? You know, I'm getting kind of sick of being told how things should be. You do know that Lucifer's roaming around Maryland and all I've got is a crappy knife and no idea of how I'm meant to stop him?'
'Jessica.'
'For the millionth time, Cas, it's Jess.'
Castiel ignored her. 'Show him.'
With a sigh, Jess reached into the back of her jeans, to the exact same place that Dean kept his own gun. But the gun she pulled out made his breath catch in the back of his throat. It was a Colt. Not just any Colt. The Colt!
'What the hell?' Dean breathed, reaching out to touch it. If he had expected Jess to snatch it away from him, he was surprised. She laid the gun in his hand willingly, giving it to him. For a moment he tore his eyes from the gun to look at her face. There was that feeling again, and something in the way she looked at him... 'Where did you get this?'
She shrugged, 'The same way it was taken from you. I stole it.'
Dean couldn't stop the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he caressed the gun. 'But I thought that bitch Bela gave it Lilith to get her out of her hell deal?'
'There was an intervention,' Castiel said simply, and frustratingly.
Dean wished the guy would sometimes explain himself, but he was so happy to be holding the Colt again that he let it slide. 'So will this take care of Lucifer?'
'We believe so. But it's not going to be easy, for either of you.'
'When is anything ever easy for me?' Dean said resignedly.
'I don't know how much help I can give you. Things are...difficult for me at the moment. But what is of the utmost importance is that the two of you stay together. I cannot tell you how crucial this is. This woman is vital to you, Dean. Do not let her out of your sight.'
In the split second that it took Jess and Dean to look at each other incredulously and then back at Castiel, the angel had disappeared.
'I hate it when he does that.' They said in unison.
They looked at each other again, and Dean found himself handing the Colt back to her, without knowing why.
'Cas told me about your brother. So, where is Sam?' She asked, holding the gun at her side.
'Here!' Sam's voice made them both spin around. He stood in the doorway, his gun trained at Jess. 'Drop the gun.'
'Sammy!' Dean shouted, sounding every inch the older brother. 'It's okay.'
'What did you do to Bobby?' Sam demanded, not lowering his weapon.
'Nothing. It was Castiel.' Jess looked steadily back at Sam, seemingly not at all afraid of either him or his gun.
'Sam!' Dean said again, going up to him and physically pushing Sam's hands down. 'Don't shoot her. She's important.' A beat. 'Apparently.'
'What?' Sam said, a frown creasing his brow.
'Long story. Sammy, this is Jess. Jess, this is my little brother, Sam.'
Sam twitched at the name, but grudgingly pocketed his gun. 'You saw him?' He asked Dean. 'You saw Castiel yourself?'
'With my own eyes,' Dean confirmed. 'Look, Bobby will be coming round soon, go down and make him comfortable. We'll be down in a minute.'
Jess raised an eyebrow as Dean ushered his brother from the room and closed the door behind him.
'Who are you?' The question came out a lot more abruptly than he'd intended but she didn't seem bothered.
'I'm a hunter, just like you. We do have demons in England, too, you know.'
'Right. So that's how you heard about me and Sam?'
Jess laughed, laying the Colt on the bed and sitting down next to it. 'Think of yourself much? I'd never heard of you until I met Cas, and he's been talking of little else since. He told me where to find the Colt and that I had to get it. For you. He told me that you're the only one who can stop him. Lucifer, I mean. Is that true?'
Dean shrugged uncomfortably and sighed, sitting down heavily on the other side of the Colt, so that it laid between them. 'So I'm told.'
She looked at him, her eyes soft. Again that feeling engulfed him, starting from the pit of his stomach and radiating outwards in warm, comforting waves.
'Do you feel that?' She asked, rubbing her own stomach.
He nodded, caught in her eyes. 'What is it?'
'I don't know...' She murmured, continuing to search his face as if the answer was to be found there. Then she suddenly smiled, 'But it's kind of nice.'
He couldn't help but smile back, and they sat for a while, basking in the unknown feeling and grinning stupidly at each other. Eventually he managed to bring himself back, 'We should go downstairs. Have you actually met Bobby yet?'
'Not as such,' she replied with a wry grin. 'What about the Colt?' She picked it up and held it out to him.
Dean hesitated, 'How about you hang on to it for me?'
She gave him a searching look, then seemed to understand him. With one hand she slowly lifted her top to bare her stomach, showing off a vivid red scar which started somewhere above her midriff and travelled down beneath her jeans. 'I went to a lot of trouble to get it for you.'
He recognised the raised blistering of an angel's touch from the hand-print scar on his arm where Castiel had pulled him out of hell. Without thinking, he reached out to trace the scar with his finger. As he reached the waistband of her jeans she shivered involuntarily. His eyes snapped up to hers but she cast them down, seemingly embarrassed.
He took the Colt from her still outstretched hand, careful not to touch her again. 'Come on, I want you to meet Bobby.'
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The Road Less Travelled