Inspired solely by the song Shelter by Ray LaMontagne.

Not sure if this will be a multi-fic yet, it has just been an idea running through my head the last couple of days. Let me know what you think!

As always I own nothing.

Everyone leaves a trail. Whether it's a paper trail or the metaphorical bread crumb. Everyone can be found. No one is ever lost forever.

He was able to find anyone in the world in mere seconds. Why he hadn't looked for her earlier, he would never know. He had just assumed she was in heaven. He believed whole-heartedly that she was safe, that she was at peace. She deserved that much.

Although he would never forget her face. He was there the day she was created. He watched as his father molded her soul, her personality, the way she would look. Everything. A perfect match for a certain soul that had already been born. He should have pushed her importance, he should have forced them together, maybe then things would have gone differently.

He watched her from outside a small diner. She stared down at her coffee cup, only rising hours before this. Her hands gripped the cup as if it was the only thing holding her to this world. He could see the dirt caked under her fingernails from when she dug herself from the earth.

She must have been disoriented. People normally are when raised from perdition and she had been in hell for years. Castiel watched as Jo Harvelle began to cry, alone. In a small diner in Carthage, Missouri.

"Do you see why this is important?" The average looking man next to him asked. "You must not tell Dean Winchester. He must see for himself."

"I don't understand." Castiel shook his head.

The man rested a paternal hand on his shoulder, as he smiled wistfully, "You will, my son. You will." He turned and took Castiel's arms in his hands. "You must promise me you will show him."

Castiel bowed his head and agreed.

Xxx

Jo's lungs filled rapidly with oxygen. Her chest burned at the action. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she took in her surroundings as they adjusted to the darkness.

She was in a small pine box. She was buried alive. No, Jo thought. I'm dead, I blew up. I shouldn't have a body.

"Help." She croaked, clawing at the top of the box. Her voice barely came out in a hoarse whisper. She swallowed what saliva she could collect down her sandpaper throat, "Help!" She tried again.

She found a crack in the wood big enough to get her fingers through and pulled as hard as she could. The wood splintered and dirt poured in. It was soft and easily pliable. She was just recently buried.

Jo tried to do the math as she dug her way out of the grave. She had been in Hell for what felt like an eternity. People had told her that it had been over three hundred years.

Of course she was only tortured for sixty. She had carefully peeled the flesh of poor souls for three hundred years. She tried to keep track of time on Earth as she meticulously pulled out fingernails, repeat the names of the ones she knew were still alive like a mantra as she branded each soul for a different kind of torture.

She clawed her hands upward and she grappled for purchase in the air. She had only been buried three feet. She used handfuls of grass to pull herself out of the hole. Once her head had broken free she was able to pull the rest of her body out.

She collapsed on the hard soil, turning her head this way and that. She was in a clearing of a forest. Or what was once a forest. She leaned up on her elbows. The clearing was a perfect circle, the trees all bent at the ground. It was as if an atom bomb had gone off where her makeshift grave was.

Xxx

"No Cas." Dean slammed his fist on the table.

"Dean," Sam pleaded. "Maybe we should check it out?"

"Nope." Dean shoved another French fry in his mouth. "Send Garth."

"Dean." Castiel leaned over the table, "This is of great importance. You must come with me to Carthage."

"Nope." Dean shook his head. "There is absolutely no freaking way I'm ever going to that town again. And," He pointed a fry at Castiel. "You still have not told me why it's so damn important."

Castiel bowed his head. He could not, he was bound by a promise. "There is something you must see." He whispered.

Dean eyed him suspiciously, glancing over to his brother. "Mmhm."

"Come on, man." Sam pleaded, watching Castiel play with the hem on his trench coat. "It'll be quick. It's only a couple hours' drive."

Dean picked at the left over fries on his plate, mulling over the options. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would never, under any circumstances, step foot in Carthage again.

The devil was gone, there was no impending apocalypse. Maybe, just maybe it would be okay. He threw his napkin down on the spoils of his lunch. "Fine." Dean pointed a warning finger at Sam, "But we are in and out."

Sam nodded obediently.

Xxx

Thankfully whoever had pulled Jo out of Hell had the decency to leave her with her wallet. One night and a couple of hot meals was all she was able to afford.

She stood under the shower for what seemed like hours. The water shoved any remnants of dirt out of her hair, her skin, and her nails.

Flashes of the rack would come back to her every so often. She would have to hold onto the steadiest object closest to her while the episode passed. The shower was no different.

She knelt down to her knees as visions of blood, and exposed muscle stretching with pain clouded her mind. She pulled her knees up to her chest and cried.

Xxx

Dean was surprised to see that Carthage hadn't really changed. He couldn't stop himself before he glanced over to that old hardware store, now a vacant lot. He whipped his head around to Castiel. "Alright, we're here. What do I need to see?"

Castiel looked around as if trying to see something that wasn't there, "We must find her." He whispered, staring just too long at the vacant lot, Dean was trying to forget was there.

"Find who, Cas?" Sam asked, following his gaze.

Castiel's face transformed from confused to determined with one scowl. He marched off down the road toward a small diner. "She was here." He pointed as the Winchester's caught up.

"Who was here?" Dean huffed as he came to stand next to Castiel.

Castiel turned his gaze from the diner and glared at Dean. "You must see." He reminded.

Dean held up his hands in surrender. "Fine, but I don't see anything."

Dean looked up and down the street with the diner. There was an old motel kitty corner from it. The 'O' on the lighted sign was out. The curtain from room thirteen shut quickly. Dean stared at it, expecting the door to open. Anything.

Xxx

Jo wrung her hair out in the towel as she looked out on the street. Carthage hadn't changed one bit. It was like Death had never even touched this town. She peered across the street at the small diner she had her first meal in.

Three men stood staring at the restaurant. The man in the middle wore a khaki trench coat. The memory of him taking shot after shot flooded her vision. She blinked her eyes clear as they settled on the man to his left. He turned and she yanked the curtains closed.

Her breath caught in her throat as her heart, she had long given up on beating again, hammered against her ribs. The man she had resigned to never see again was only feet away. She slid down the wall under the window and pulled her knees up to her chest.

Xxx

"We will wait." Castiel nodded toward the diner. "She will come." He crossed the parking lot and into the diner, taking a seat at a booth near the window.

Sam slapped his brother on the back. "Come on, maybe they have pie." He said in a vain attempt to cheer his older brother up.

"They better have pie." Dean grumbled as he followed Castiel's lead.

Xxx

"Cas, it's been hours," Dean whined for the fifth time. "Can't you just tell me what I'm supposed to see?"

"No." Castiel deadpanned as he searched the street outside the diner.

Dean huffed as he leaned back in the booth, his eyes immediately going to room thirteen at the motel across the street. He hadn't seen any movement since they arrived.

Dean couldn't explain it, but something in his gut was telling him that room was important. There was something behind that door that he needed to see.

But he was just being paranoid. It was just some random motel, and the only reason he was thinking about it was because they were in Carthage.

Jo would always pick room thirteen at motels. She would actually request it. Something with she thought it was cleaner because of people's superstitions. She thought less people would stay there. She must've known something because room thirteen was always vacant.

He rubbed his face to rid himself of the memories, but his eyes remained on that door.

Sam looked absentmindedly around the diner, sipping on his water through a straw, "Can we guess?"

Castiel turned his attention to Sam. His expression did not change.

"So it's a 'she', so it's human, right?"

Castiel gave a curt nod.

Dean tore his attention away from the motel and back to Castiel.

"Is it someone from a different timeline?" Sam asked, trying to narrow down the possibilities by eliminating the bigger ones.

Castiel shook his head.

"Alright." Sam leaned his elbows on the table, concentrating. "And it's someone we know?"

Castiel nodded.

Dean scoffed, "You know how many women I know?"

"Dean," Sam shushed his brother, "Is this person a civilian?"

Castiel did not nod, nor did he shake his head. He knew if he admitted too much it will result in breaking his promise.

"I'm going to take that as a 'no'." Sam concluded, as he turned in his seat toward his brother, "That just leaves a few options."

Dean stared back at room thirteen. In his heart he knew that only left one option. There was only one woman that it could be.

Dean immediately stood up from the booth and left the diner. He strode across the street, ignoring Sam's calls for him. He stomped his way down the row of motel rooms until he stopped at the one he had been staring at all day. He rose his fist and stilled himself before his knuckles hit the wood of the door.

He rested his palm gently over the painted numbers on the door, covering his mouth with his other hand.

What if it was her? What if she was real and this wasn't some cruel joke? What if she remembered? What if she hated him? Where has she been this whole time? The second the question popped in his mind, he knew. She was in Hell. His stomach rolled, threatening to bring up the pie, as he did the math in his head. Three hundred years. He backed away from the door, and rested his hands on his knees, trying to steady his breathing.

Why didn't he look for her? Why didn't he know? He should have looked for her! The guilt of her death had rested heavily on his shoulders and the thought of her on the racks made his chest burn. He was going to have a heart attack, he was certain of it.

"Dean?" Sam galloped across the street and placed a comforting hand on his back, "Are you alright?"

Dean sat up straight turning his glare on Castiel. "Is it her?" He asked as he pointed to the motel room.

"You must see." Castiel urged.

"Where was she this whole time?" Dean demanded, although he was sure he knew the answer.

Castiel bowed his head, "I didn't think… I just assumed… She would go to Heaven."

Sam stared at the motel door with the number thirteen painted in white. Dean could practically hear the wheels turning in Sam's head. "Jo?" He whispered looking back to Dean.

Castiel continued to stare at the ground.

Sam looked back to the door in wonder, raising a fist and knocking gently.

Xxx

Jo could hear them arguing through the paper thin walls. She knew they were here. She knew that they wouldn't hurt her. This is real, she reminded herself.

Jo unraveled her arms from her legs as she stood. Her bones protesting at the movement as a gentle knock echoed in the room.

Jo's head whipped toward the door, immediately taking a defensive stance. She took a deep breath as she relaxed herself. You're home now. Calm down. She unclenched her fists and took a determined step toward the door.

Slowly she slid the chain off, and unlocked the dead bolt.

Xxx

Dean could feel the sweat beginning to bead on his forehead as the anticipation threatened to kill him. The chain sliding off the door echoed, he could almost picture her dainty fingers plucking it from the lock. The thump of the dead bolt pulled him from his day dream. The sun gleamed off of the door knob as it turned ever so slowly. Dean's pulse was pounding in his ears.

The door finally pulled open. She stood off to the side leaving plenty of room for them to enter. As if the silent invitation was unnecessary. All she was there for was to unlock the door.

Xxx

Jo stood off to the side of the door as she swung it open. The sun was all too bright, and to be perfectly honest, she didn't want to see him. She had built up his memory so many times in her mind she was petrified that she had changed him. She would be devastated to find out the man she had been loving for over three hundred years was a delusion.

Sam came through the door first, hovering over her with his height. He eyed her from top to bottom as he moved farther into the room. Castiel was next, Jo nodded her greeting to him as he passed.

Dean hadn't moved. Hands on his knees taking deep breaths.

Jo took a deep breath of her own and moved to stand in the door way. Meeting her brown eyes with his green. It was as if a lightning strike had gone off in between them. Something had changed and Jo knew there was no going back now.

Xxx

One after the other, Sam and Castiel left him in the parking lot, trying to steady his heart. When he finally allowed himself to look up there she was. No memory he had of her was embellished, no fantasy, the sound of her laughter still rang in his ears.

He stood to his full height, all the air returning to his lungs, his heart finally calming. She was real. She was here. Dean couldn't look away from her. There was nothing in the world he needed to see other than her. His whole life had just changed and he didn't feel the need to question it.

She moved to the side, gesturing for him to enter with the raising of one manicured brow.

Dean obeyed and entered the motel room.

Xxx

Jo shut the door behind Dean, turning the dead bolt and replacing the chain. She turned to face the group shoving her hands in her pockets, "Hey guys."

Dean scoffed, "'Hey guys'?" He threw his hands up in the air, the wonderment that was in his eyes now replaced by irritation. "What the hell, Jo?!"

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Jo mimicked his actions. "I should have given you a heads up." She placed her hands on her hips, her words dripping in sarcasm.

"Did you know you would be risen?" Castiel asked curiously.

"No, of course not." Jo rolled her eyes pinching the bridge of her nose. "I have no idea why I'm here."

"How long have you been topside?" Sam asked sitting on the edge of the bed. The blankets were still ruffled from a fitful night of sleep.

"About a day and a half." Jo mumbled letting herself slump down in a chair near the door. "Came up about a quarter mile outside of town. Looked like a bomb had gone off. I had to dig my way out of the ground."

"We didn't bury you." Sam whispered.

"Yeah I figured that." Jo shrugged. "There wasn't a body to bury."

Dean physically cringed as he leaned against the dresser. He rubbed his hand over his face.

Jo watched the weariness on his face as he met her eyes.

Sam looked from Jo back to his brother, "Hey Cas, let's give them a minute."

Castiel nodded, content that he had finished his mission. He followed Sam back out into the parking lot.

Xxx

The door reverberated off the walls in the small motel room. Dean watched as Jo moved to sit on her hands, no doubt they were shaking. Just like his had when he was first back. "Drinking usually helps." He nodded toward her hands. "Keeps them from shaking, or you from noticing."

Jo nodded slowly, "Is that what you did?"

Dean sighed. "It's what I still do." He pushed off from the dresser and took an unsteady step toward her, "Jo if I knew where you were…"

Jo put a hand up to stop him. "I know."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean knelt in front of her. "With Osiris? You could've told me."

Jo furrowed her brows, "And give you more guilt?" She sighed rolling her eyes, "Plus I was a bit busy concentrating on not killing you."

Dean reached for one of her hands, pulling it in both of his. "But you're here now."

Jo leaned closer to him, placing her other hand over his. "There's got to be a catch."

Dean bowed his head, resting his forehead on their joined hands. He stood pulling her to his chest, his hands going on either side of her face, before he crushed his lips on to hers.

"You're here." He whispered against her mouth.

Xxx

The seconds his lips hit hers, Jo's arms wrapped around his neck. The heat her heart had been pumping out coursed through her veins and colored her cheeks as his hands found her hips.

"You're here," He spoke against her lips.

"Yeah," She breathed, "I am." For the first time in centuries Jo felt like she was safe. Like she had a home, a shelter. As long as she was in Dean's arms, she was alive. She pulled back from him and rested her forehead against his, "Wanna get me out of here?"

Dean's chuckled rumbled against her chest, "You have no idea."

Hey guys, how'd you like it? Should I continue? Please review and let me know!