A/N: This takes place right after "All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2."
Phone Call
He was dead.
After all the years of preparation, the work, the training, the anger, the hatred, the misery, that son-of-a-bitch was finally dead. He didn't have to fear anymore. He didn't have to worry about protecting his little brother from some crazy, war-bent demon. He didn't have to worry about a repeat of Mom and Jessica. No other mothers would die, no other girlfriends or lovers or neighbors or teachers or friends, not from that particular demon. They were free.
"Where should we go first? Where do you think the escaped demons are headed?"
Well, for the most part.
"Beats the hell out of me," Dean said, closing the Impala's door.
Sam stared straight forward, the overwhelming task they had ahead of them momentarily swallowing him whole.
"Maybe we should take a day or two to ourselves," Dean said, studying his brother's exhausted face. "You know, before we go back to this heroes, saviors of the world gig."
Sam shook his head. "Can we do that?"
A cocky grin painted his sibling's face. "I think that, after tonight, we deserve it. In fact, I can't think of any pair that deserves it more."
A relieved smile spread across Sam's face. "Two days, that's all we can spare."
"It's enough."
"So," Sam started, watching Dean carefully. "What do you want to do?"
Dean smirk. "How 'bout we head North? I've got this friend in Minnesota."
"That's great mom," Jo said through clenched teeth.
I'll be fair, Jo had told herself. I'll start taking mom's calls again; let her in on my life. As irritated as I am to admit it, she's always worked hard for me. She deserves to be let in.
Jo was seriously regretting that choice.
She had been talking to her mother for two weeks, and yet Ellen couldn't be bothered to pick up the phone and call Jo for back up when the fight of the century was going down? A battle against the man – figuratively speaking – who was responsible for leaving dozens of children motherless? Who had destroyed the lives of the Winchesters who were, despite recent events, her friends? How dare they exclude her from this fight!
As Ellen filled her in on the happenings Jo scrubbed the bar counter with more fervor than necessary, eliminating any beer residue with extreme prejudice.
I should have been there.
"Jo?" Ellen said over the phone.
"Yeah?" Jo grumbled back.
"Don't be too upset. I was afraid that something would happen to you. Or happen to him trying to protect you."
Jo sighed in frustration. "What are you talking about?"
Ellen breathed into the phone. "It's complicated, but you'll begin to see the signs when you're older."
The young blonde threw the rag down on to the counter. "Would you quit talking like a magic eight ball mom?"
There was a sharp rapping on the door.
"I got to go," Jo flipped the phone closed before her mother could respond.
"We're closed!" She shouted at the entrance, picking up the cleaning rag again.
"Really?" an irritatingly confident voice asked. "Is that what the sign that says 'closed' means? I thought it had some philosophical meaning."
Jo turned to stare at the entrance, happy that no one was in the bar to see her shocked face.
"I'll be damned."
The first time Dean had meant Jo she threatened him with a rifle and then punched him. Later, she snuck on a hunt with them and got kidnapped by a sociopath ghost with a fondness for pretty blondes. Even later, Meg-possessed-Sam had used her as bait.
Dean was beginning to think that he, in all of his amazing-ness, brought the girl bad luck. Well, except for the right hook thing, that was all her.
"Get out of here!" She said sharply from inside the bar.
Dean raised an eyebrow at Sam. "Little testy?" he said softly. Sam glared at him.
"What?" Dean asked, feigning innocence. "You said before that you wanted to apologize to her."
"Yes," Sam said, "but not in the middle of the night after she's been working, and not when she's already in a bad mood."
Dean rolled his eyes. "It'll be fine, let's just pick the lock."
The younger brother looked a little outraged. "What if she calls the cops?"
"She won't."
"We can't just break into the bar."
"Well she's not letting us in, so why not? We won't hurt anything."
"But…"
Jo stared daggers at the door, listening to the brother's bicker in hushed voices, pondering whether or not she should let them in.
Which is the worse fate, deal with the Winchesters or finish cleaning up this joint?"Don't be a pansy Sam," Dean said as he knelt in front of the bar's door, lock picks in hand. "It's not like she's gonna shoot us."
Sam muttered something that sounded a lot like "how do you know."
Dean played with the lock, leaning his weight on the door right as it opened.
The older Winchester fell forward unsteadily and looked up at the angry blonde, suddenly wondering what possessed him to come to Duluth.
"What ever happened to my phone call?" Jo asked, raising an eyebrow in a pretty good imitation of what Dean himself had done earlier.
Dean stood quickly. "You know, crap phone, bad reception."
Jo nodded empathetically before punching him in the face.
He staggered from the blow, but was able to stay upright. He ran his tongue over his now bleeding lip. "Damn, at least I came to see you. That's more than most girls I know get."
"That wasn't for the phone call," Jo said hotly. "That was for going to kill that dick without me. You took my mother, but not me?"
Dean looked at his brother helplessly, but all Sam could do was shrug.
"Jo," Sam said.
His eyes became shadowed, and they slanted under his furrowed brow. The Sammy's a cute puppy eyes.
Bastard, Dean thought a little jealously. He was never able to pull off that look. Too cocky for his own good; or at least that's what John used to say.
"I'm really sorry for what happened before. When I hurt you… I tried to stop it. Really I did."
Jo shook her head. "Don't apologize Sam, you didn't know what you were doing. Besides, no harm no foul," she waved her hand at herself as if to emphasize that she was in perfect health.
Dean nearly sputtered. "Wait, so I get punched for not calling but he gets 'no harm no foul'?"
She pointed at him as if scolding a child. "I didn't hit you for not calling. And he didn't promise that he would call, anyway."
"Of course," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "My mistake."
Jo leaned against the doorframe, fidgeting a little. "So… is that all you guys came for?"
"Huh?" Dean looked confused, which was his usual expression. "Oh, no. See Sammy here really wanted to take in a show over at the Duluth Theater."
Dean patted Sam's shoulder affectionately and Sam cringed. It'd be nice if Dean could think up a lie that didn't make him look like an idiot or gay.
"And see, I'm not interesting in seeing… what was it Sam? Hairspray?"
Sam forced a smile. "That was it."
"Well, I thought I'd stay here with you till he's done," Dean smiled widely at Jo and extended the keys to Sam. "Have fun."
Sam grabbed the keys a little viciously. "Oh I will."
Jo glanced between the brothers curiously. Odds were that Sam didn't want to see Hairspray; she doubted that Hairspray was even playing, though she wouldn't know. But if Dean had something to say, she might as well let him say it.
Sam trudged off, briefing glaring at his brother beforehand.
"So," Jo said when he was out of sight.
"So," Dean repeated.
"What are you doing here Dean?" She asked softly.
Dean looked at the ground before facing her again. "I just wanted to let you know what had happened. And make sure that you're okay."
Jo shrugged. "Well, I am."
"A lot of demons got out. You need to be on your guard."
"Yeah."
Dean shifted legs. "It would probably be a good idea if you didn't go after any of them."
She sighed. "And why is that?"
"We don't know what got out of there…"
"I'll decide whether I'm going to hunt or not. It's not your concern."
Dean lifted his hands in irritation. "You're right, it's not my concern. If you get maimed, mutilated, killed, whatever, it doesn't matter. It's not my concern."
Jo smiled widely. "At least we understand each other."
"Yeah, we do have that. You going to invite me in for a beer or what?"
Sam stared out the impala's windshield, wondering how long Hairspray would last. He was about two miles from the bar, and when he wasn't staring at the persistent, demanding rain he was staring at the slow moving clock. An hour and forty minutes had passed. He couldn't even use his laptop.
What Dean could possibly have been saying to Jo for an hour and forty minutes was beyond Sam, but enough was enough. Besides, a war had started. And when Dean said, "take a couple of days off" Sam didn't think he meant "sit in the impala while I beg Jo for forgiveness." He pulled the Impala out of the road's shoulder and headed back.
He stopped outside the bar, glancing in through the windows. They were sitting at the bar, cradling two bottled beers. Dean smiled and lifted up his beer. Jo smiled back and tapped hers on the side of it.
They hadn't seen him. Sam quietly backed out of the parking lot. The demons could wait another hour or two.
A/N: I don't really have much to add. This is my first Dean/Jo story, so I hope you enjoyed it. Please review, thanks for reading.
