What if – Chestervelle
What if it went how it was planned? Imagine; Dean admit to Jo that he did in fact love her, and she the same with him. It would be perfect, right? It'd be like the time in the sewers when she had to act as if Dean was her boyfriend.
Secretly, she wished. She wished that he was. Every night she thought about all the happy memories they could have. She would run her fingers over the bedsheets, pretending that Dean would crawl into them at night after a long hunt and they would lie together, tracing patterns onto each others skin with their fingertips. They would talk about their future, how his hunt went. They would kiss goodnight and she would fall asleep in his arms.
"I'll call you later."
"No you won't."
What if he did call her back? What if, he did call her later that night, even though she had given up all hope on him. He would drive back to the motel and he would debate it. Does he call Jo? Does he call her and stay up late all night, even though he's exhausted? Would he stay up and talk to her all night, working to flirt with her and make her laugh and smile? Because he knows that she's so damn beautiful and he loves seeing the way her face lights up every-time he walks through the door, the way she would turn around and see him standing there and she would be so shocked, but her face would wear this innocent and child-like smile that would just make him want to lean down and kiss her, sighing a breath of relief that he now knows how soft her lips truly are. He would reach up to caress her cheek, and tuck some of her golden locks behind her ear before turning on his heels, wearing such a goofy smile and he would walk out of the door; returning again sometime soon.
He would call her.
He would pace the shabby motel room, disposable cell phone in hand.
Or would he call her? Would he just go to bed? He looked over at his bed. It looked awfully comfortable... Maybe if he lay down and slept he wouldn't have to face the reality of calling her.
But he really wanted to! He wanted to call her and hear her shy voice on the other end of the phone. He wanted to lie in bed, listening to her voice as he fell asleep, the two falling asleep and clocking up such a big phone bill.
Not like Dean would pay it anyway; he would just throw the phone away and get a new one.
What if...
She never got attacked? That the hell-hound never ripped her apart, that it never tore through her stomach and covered her in blood? What if she never shot the hell hound? Or what if... The hell hound didn't attack her?
Maybe they wouldn't have to build a bomb; they wouldn't have to go living the life knowing that Dean was going to be alone, because he lost Jo. He wouldn't go to Lisa for consolidation. Because he would have Jo to be right there. She would sit in the passenger seat, Sam in the back, asleep. As he drives, she would hesitantly slip her hand into his. Their eyes would meet for a second and they are both thinking the same thing;
I love you.
But words are too big for them. The phrase 'Actions speak louder than words' never applied to them. They never said the words they wanted to. The way he should have complimented her, every-time she smiled because he thought she was drop dead gorgeous, that she was like the face of purity and youth... He never told her. Instead, he would just have this small little smirk on his face and he would watch her work intently, wondering how lost in her thoughts she was. If she knew that he was staring at her.
After meeting Meg, they would leave the job; shyly, she would offer them both to stay the night at the roadhouse. Because that way they wouldn't have to be on their own. That was better anyway, right? They wouldn't want to be alone after all that. And Dean denies it, that he didn't want to stay. But Sam goes ahead and accepts the offer. Jo listens to Sam, because she doesn't want to face the idea of rejection, the idea that Dean didn't want to stay with her at the roadhouse. Because thinking like that broke her heart.
And staying at the Roadhouse was the best thing that Dean could have ever done. It had some great advantages; it meant that he got to drink more and he got to spend so much time just sitting there and talking to Jo. She would put on the jukebox and the first song she ever played on that jukebox would play again.
I can't fight this feeling anymore... Oh, how that applied to the two so well; they both knew that they liked each other. They could see it each time they looked in each other's eyes. The vibrancy of Dean's, the childish features in Jo's... The two traits combined just screamed how much they loved each other. The way her cheeks would rise when she smiled. He would sit there and tilt his head, just to look at her and watch how calm she was, how she would sit there and lean on the bar, her body just that little bit closer to his.
At night, they would bid their farewell and go to bed. They would go their seperate ways. The two boys would go to the spare rooms and she would go to her room and lie on the bed. As would Dean. What they didn't realise is that they would both lie on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with one arm behind their head. They would count each imperfection they saw in the ceiling. They would sit up, no longer to sit still. Dean would be the first to move; he would get up and go to Jo's bedroom door. He would hesitate, standing outside the door, ready to knock. Instead, he doesn't. He stands there, not knowing what he was doing there. Maybe he was too scared- too nervous to interrupt her. After all, what if she was sleeping?
Jo would look at the bedroom door. She would see the light through the gap of the door way and the shadow of feet. Biting her lip, her hand would grab the door handle. She would open the door and she would see Dean standing there. Somewhat surprised, she would step back. He saw her in her pretty nightwear. Her cheeks flaming pink, matching the colour of the lace on her black night dress. She would look down at her feet before being brave and choosing to look up and look him in the eye.
"I didn't expect to see you standin' at my door."
"I can't sleep."
"Neither can I..."
"Wanna keep me company?" Dean would ask, wearing a bashful grin on his lips. She would chuckle quietly and give a small nod. She invites him into her bedroom and he sits down on the bed. She gets a cardigan and pulls it around her. She sits down on the bed beside him. They would talk into the night; until the sun rised.
"Look at the window... All those colours. Isn't it beautiful?" She muses, going to stand up and look outside the window, watching the slow process of all the different forms of orange, yellow and red blend into one another.
Dean would watch her, how at peace she was. He cocks his head and leans forward. "I've seen something more beautiful." He tells her.
Jo chuckles and doesn't understand what could be better looking than the rising sun, the new dawn. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"What is it?"
"You."
"Me?" She would ask, confused and surprised. Her cheeks would turn this gentle pink and she would turn to face him, confused. He would stand up and take a few steps towards her. His hand would slip into her hair, his thumb brushing her cheek. His eyes don't leave hers; not for a second, a minute. His other hand would slip around her waist, bringing her small, dainty body closer to his. She is still wrapped in confusion, not understanding what he was doing. Her heart pounded fast against her chest, butterflies swelling in her stomach with a buzz of excitement, her mind rushing and flooding with all these thoughts...
Kiss her.
Kiss me, Dean.
So he did. He pulled her against him and he leaned down to her. She tiptoed slightly so he didn't have to bend all the way. Her arms looped loosely around his neck and she would kiss him. It was tender, gentle. Caring. It was brief. His lips locked with hers for only a short matter of seconds before he pulled away.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on." He whispers, his lips pressing lovingly against her forehead. Then he picks her up. He lays her on her bed in a gentle fashion and he climbs into the bed beside her. He holds her close, stroking her hair soothingly as they fell asleep; knowing they wouldn't wake up to experience the morning. Maybe they would see the afternoon. But for now, they didn't care. They would fall asleep together, tangled bodies and content in each others arms. Both falling asleep in each other's arms.
What if time progressed after the incident and so did their relationship?
They were more than friends now; best friends... brother and sister kind of friendship. They excelled that, but at times, they seemed so much less than the possibility of being boyfriend and girlfriend. It just didn't seem possible.
He would visit her more often- after hunts, if they were in the area (which more often than not, he tried to be.) they would visit. Sam didn't complain; because he knew that he was happy and that Dean truly did like her, and wasn't going to screw this up.
He walked into the bar and made his way over to Jo who was currently talking to some of the customers, wiping down the tables as she went. He would sneak up behind her, his hands resting on her waist. The first few times he did that, she would flinch. Now, she was used to it; she knew who it was. She knew that it would be Dean. Ellen would watch from a distance, a small grin on her face. Her and Sam both knew that the two were destined to be together and they were happy for them.
So Jo would ask her mom for time off work to talk to Dean. Of course, she couldn't deny him that. This time, Dean took her outside the bar to talk. They sat on a bench and sat in the cool summer air. They would sit there, content. They would talk; Jo would ask about his hunts, how he was... The casual type of conversation when all of a sudden-
"I love you, Jo."
She froze. He froze. They both fell silent. She scoffed in disbelief and looked at him, almost silently questioning if he was serious. Then she realised. She saw it in his eyes... He wasn't lying. He did love her.
Jo leaned in, pulling him close.
"I love you too, Dean."
"So, be mine?"
"I'd love to. As long as you're mine, 'course."
"I can't think of anything better."
Then they would kiss. It would last longer than the first ever; it was still gentle and caring, but this one would mark something special. Something that was meant to be.
Then he would get called away on a hunt... And her mood would fall. She wouldn't panic, though. She knew that the boys were smart, and wouldn't get into trouble. (Well, Sam wouldn't.) She knew that Dean tried harder now; he tried harder not to get hurt. For her sake.
Every night, he would call her. They would stay up all night, racking up a phone bill that could be in the hundreds, but neither of them cared.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"Marry me?"
"Okay."
"Okay."
He hung up and she laid there in bed. He just proposed to her; she just agreed. She couldn't sleep that night. She was too busy thinking... Thinking about how much she loved him. They were a crazy couple, but perfect nonetheless.
She would lay there all night with a smile; and what she didn't realise was that, Dean was doing the same. They both laid there, phone clutched to their chest, a soft, sleepy smile on their faces as they began to fall asleep, dreaming of each other.
What if, they had the perfect life?
What if, nothing ever went wrong?
What if?