AN:- Okay this is my DeanJo apocalypse story (as if I suppose Michael and Sam fought and the world got ripped up in the way everyone feared it would early Season 5)...assuming Jo didn't die in Abandon All Hope...in fact keep in mind that although that has got to be one of my favourite episodes (REALLY well written and acted) with regards to my fanfics Jo didn't die, it just didn't happen!

You Got A Fast Car


You got a fast car…

I want a ticket to anywhere…

Maybe we make a deal…

When he sees her standing there - dusty duffel bag at the side of the road - he stops. He turns off the engine for the first time since Denver and it's the first time he's heard that sound. That nothingness sound…and it's because the roar of the Impala isn't there to drown it out anymore. And he hates her a little bit for making him stop. Even though she didn't ask him to.

She knew he'd come, check if she was still alive, even though no one else is as far as she knows. He knew she'd ask to go with him; knew she wouldn't have anywhere to go and she'd want to feel like she was doing something.

Neither of them knew he'd say yes.

Maybe together we can get somewhere…

She started to think that they could actually get through this; started to think it wasn't so bad, that sometimes the quiet wasn't so quiet. Sometimes it was even welcome. Sometimes knowing it was just them and the world was ok. They'd find people eventually. Whether she wanted to or not was maybe a different story.

He didn't think about it. She did.

What would they do when they found people? They didn't have a plan yet. And what good would anyone be if they did? Most of the hunters had fallen; most of the demons had fallen. One big mess, with no obvious victor. Dean kept out of it by Sam at the last minute – against his will – Jo kept out of it by James…but no one said that name anymore. Dean never knew him, and Jo didn't ever want him to. She occasionally rubbed her ring finger though, feeling like she was betraying something she never felt in the first place, and he caught her doing it and wondered when she'd developed that unusual habit.

Most ordinary people had got caught in the crossfire…so what kind of people were left? No one of any use to them. But then again who did they think they needed? What did they need? What were they doing?

Driving.

We won't have to drive too far…

Just 'cross the border and into the city…

In the beginning they just drove and drove. It seemed for a while they'd never stop. They went into empty abandoned motels every now and then, but during the day most of the time they just drove. Jo wondered if when they hit the water on the east coast Dean would stop…or just keep on driving.

You got a fast car…

Is it fast enough so we can fly away…

Then it started creeping in, the doubt, the feeling that no matter what they did they just kept running into what happened, and they could never escape it. It came to her at night and she thought maybe it did to Dean too, because he always seemed to be driving faster in the mornings. And yeah it could be that he was just recharged after sleeping, or it could be that the same thoughts kept him awake too, and as soon as they got in that car he'd try to chase them away, and prove them wrong…By the evening he always slowed down. Defeated.

I know things will get better…

Jo knew they'd find people eventually, but she was still shocked when they did.

They'd followed the coast down and then through Georgia, somewhere near Albany they found a few families one day, just as if they hadn't been looking at all. After that it was dribs and drabs, from one town to the next. Always wanting to find someone, always disappointed when they did, as if they expected it to change something when it didn't. She didn't know why. Maybe for Dean it was that he was looking for someone specific, maybe she was too. They never talked about it. They'd never find them anyway, but it wasn't a conscious goal, just that unexplainable discontent after the fact, so maybe it didn't matter.

They were always thankful when they found someone who they didn't have to look after. One time they found a baby, and neither of them knew what to do. Drop it off somewhere? But where? And with who? They never said a word, but a silent understanding passed between them that they'd leave her at the next inhabited place they found.

By the time they found the next lot of people they were young, careless, didn't have two brain cells to rub together. Jo would have given them the kid though; if that's what Dean wanted. To make things easier. To make him happy. But it was him who made up the lie, without any direction from her. He whispered something in her ear and introduced the kid as their daughter. Jo hated the fact that she had felt relief at his words, because this wouldn't help them, it wasn't good for them. It was around that time that Dean named the baby Kate.

We'll move out of the shelter…

Buy a big house and live in the suburbs…

They tried the house thing, someone in another town told them to try it, made things easier apparently, made things seem like the good old days. Only Dean never felt comfortable there, she could tell, and all it did was depress her. For a while it worked, and sometimes she'd see him smile at her or Kate, or she'd smile, or hell sometimes they'd all smile. But it was just a shell, it was just a façade, and it couldn't go on forever.

Sometimes Jo thought they were the best times, and sometimes she felt so sick that it twisted her stomach in knots and made her want to vomit. They'd been like children playing dress up games. And no matter how she tried to paint it, it was a borrowed house, a borrowed home. They didn't buy the sheets they slept in, and the dresses that hung in the wardrobe by the side of the bed weren't Jo's. She never wore anyone else's clothes, but she kept them in there because she couldn't bring herself to throw them out. After all they belonged in that house more than she did. So they stayed in the closet, a constant reminder to her when she was in her place between sleep and awake, that she had no right to be here, in someone else's bed.

That's when they started sharing a bed. And Jo didn't know how it happened, but it just seemed natural. Although they always started miles apart he always seemed to know when she was thinking she didn't belong, because he'd roll over and hug her body close to his. As if to say he knew he didn't belong either. And it didn't help her sleep, but it helped her stop thinking about the skeletons in the closet. And it didn't help him sleep either, in fact he couldn't and never had been able to sleep whilst holding onto to someone that way, but they only had each other and he knew it, so he tried to do what he could to soothe her without words.

They didn't stay too long there, but even after they left they carried on sharing a bed…and he carried on holding her every now and again, even if it cost him sleep.

In the next town they dropped the kid with a priest who was sheltering his parishioners. He was actually making a damn good job of it, even Dean admitted that.

They didn't speak about it before or after. Both knew it was for the best without having to say it out loud, but they both felt they'd lost something and that night and many after Dean didn't sleep beside her.

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder…

And I had a feeling that I belonged…

Even though they'd moved apart it still wasn't a shock to either of them when it finally happened. They were the only two people either saw regularly. Usually they'd go days without finding anyone, sometimes weeks. One time a whole month.

It just seemed inevitable. On a basic level they both needed sex; both needed comfort. But there were other reasons it happened too. There was just something entirely wrong with the situation, apart from the obvious post-apocalyptic fallout. There was something wrong with the two of them being here, together. They'd never been friends really, they had nothing apart from the times he'd saved her life and the time she'd patched him up in Duluth after he got shot. Apart from that they had nothing, no proper connection, and they weren't even those people anymore, so all their past run-ins didn't mean shit. They were different people now and they both needed something to define their relationship, the reason they were together. Nothing really tied them, and they somehow needed to change that, just so they knew why the fuck they were going through all this; sex became the solution. It also helped the tension for a while, it helped stop things being so uncomfortable and it stopped things seeming too real.

The first time it happened Jo initiated it. They were sat in a peaceful silence on the edge of their double bed, the first one they'd crashed on since Dean started picking twin rooms and sleeping separately to her. That meant something. She just kissed him and at first he didn't reciprocate, so she stood up awkwardly and began to walk away. He reached out, grabbed her wrist, and she turned to face him. That's when he locked eyes with her, and she knew what he was asking her with that strong gaze. He was asking her if she knew what she'd just done. He was asking her if she knew what would happen now, where this would lead in the future if they really did this, and more importantly, was she okay with that?

She was. Or at least she thought she was. She knew this would change things, but not in the way it would have in normal circumstances. It would change things because there would be no going back. It wasn't like the house; if it didn't fit they couldn't just move on and leave it behind them. What they were about to do would not be a one off and both of them knew it, this would be how it was from now on, and when they called stop on it would be when they called stop on each other all together. There was no going back after this. It couldn't be undone and it would open the door to something else.

Before he got his answer; before she'd thought of how to respond he'd pulled her down onto his lap and somehow they managed to tumble back onto the bed with her on top of him. He soon turned the tables and rolled her so she was underneath. The first time they didn't look at each other until afterwards. Their lips hardly broke apart and when they did Dean cradled his head into her neck. They didn't compare it to any sex they'd had before. Didn't see the point in doing that. This was it now; they knew that.

Once the door was opened it started being the solution to a whole lot of other things too. If one of them couldn't sleep, which was most nights – even after all this time – they'd wake the other up with a kiss. If they went too long without food; if they went too long without seeing anyone; if they saw too many people and felt lost amongst the faces. It gave them comfort for a while, grounded them in each other, but it couldn't give them everything. They were still two strangers with a big backyard and nothing to do in it. They didn't have a purpose, or a mission. And it couldn't change that reality. It just made them forget for a while. Maybe not long enough.

I'd always hoped for better…

Thought maybe together you and me would find it…

Things went down hill eventually. Not that they ever had gone any other way. But the monotony started to wear them both down. Dean especially. It was when they both realised this was their life now.

Drive. Maybe see some people; maybe see a town. Drive. Turn on the air-conditioner. Drive. Sleep and repeat.

They both wanted more and they both understood that this was it. They both hated themselves; they both hated each other. They knew they had it better than most people, and if given the choice they wouldn't want to switch places with anyone. No, as far as choices went, this was what both of them thought was best. But best of a bad situation was still bad.

Dissatisfaction led to frustration. Frustration couldn't be downplayed. Doing that only seemed to make things worse. Because Dean tried to hide it the most, Jo got it the worst. But it wasn't always one-sided.

Sometimes they said the most awful things to each other. Sometimes they made up. Sometimes they fucked to make up. Sometimes they fucked mid-fight, and sometimes things got really nasty. Sometimes their relationship was so dark and wrong and raw that Jo didn't know if they hadn't gone into hell along with Sam and the others. Had they really been spared that? Maybe that's why it was like this, because they both knew they weren't special, there was no reason that they weren't in that fight apart from that they were loved by people who had enough power to keep them out of it. They shouldn't be here, but here they were. Life was just that random and stupid and meaningless.

Maybe this was their sick little way of making up for that. If they tortured each other enough maybe they could feel less guilty that they got away. Jo was almost glad they didn't have friends and family who could see them. Friends to see the bruises and bites and cuts on her skin from the things he did to her, or the ones on his skin when she did them back.

One time he actually hit her. Just on a normal day, just having an argument about something mundane, and she went too far with it. But he hit her, and he'd never done it like that before. Slap across the face, full and brutal, stinging cheek and trail of blood from her lip.

He took the car and drove off, and when he came back an hour later they didn't speak, but the air was thinner and when he came near her she didn't flinch, so he didn't back off. His eyes were sorry, the first real emotion she'd seen so clear in him, but there was also panic in them. It was a panic that was reflected in hers as well. Neither of them knew how they'd let things get so far, and neither knew how to stop it. If it was a one off or if that was the new way of things now? Neither wanted to be who they were, and they were afraid because they didn't know how to be anyone else. A part of them still wanted to find something in each other. This time for the first time they made love to make up. But it didn't fix anything.

Things were definitely broken, and neither of them could see how they would ever be right again.

I got no plans I ain't going nowhere…

So take your fast car and keep on driving…

She couldn't leave him; she knew that. If one of them was going to go, it would have to be him.

You got a fast car…

Is it fast enough so you can fly away…

You got to a make a decision…

One day while they were staying in some vacant ranch house Jo woke up and she could smell the summer-sun dried grass and country dust. The window had been left open, and even though the sun shone in, the cold still nipped at her bare skin. When she went to turn the latch and shut it closed her eyes focused on the tracks in the driveway, the scene was missing the Impala. She made no reaction. She just went back to bed.

She tried to stumble on with things the rest of the day, make herself some lunch from the things they'd picked up a few days before, and she tried not to think about what she would do when things ran out. She had no idea how far it was to the nearest town, never mind the nearest populated town, she'd been asleep on the way here. He woke her gently when the car came to a slow stop in front of the house, and she should have known then that something was different, because she hadn't remembered him being that gentle before.

She stayed there a few days after things ran out, and she wouldn't admit it, but it was because she thought he might come back. Some part of her wanted to believe. She started walking one day, but she got as far as the end field and came back.

She didn't know where he'd gone; it didn't matter where. Nothing so trivial mattered anymore. All that mattered was when he was coming back, if he came back. She tried to keep busy, feeling like the housewife waiting for her husband to come home from work, but then her make-believe day was overshadowed by the night, when she was still left alone. She was making the bed one afternoon – having slept most of the day, because she had no reason to get up – and his arms came around her waist. She relaxed into him immediately and he just held her for a time. She told him she thought she was pregnant. When he said nothing she asked him what they were going to do now, and he just hugged her closer and said…

Leave tonight or live and die this way...


AN:- So hope you guys liked! A few people said after Back in Black that they hoped I'd write more DeanJo in the future, and it is my favourite thing to write so this is only the beginning, maybe soon I'll even get an idea for another series with those characters, but I hope you liked this one off fic all the same!