"Son of a bitch!"
Dean writhed in Bobby and Sam's grip as they held him to the table. He felt Jo's hands brush his skin a moment, a small comfort, and then suddenly, she was piercing him again and again as the needle wove in and out of him. He grimaced and continued to growl, and every time he squirmed, he sloshed in the pools of blood around him and contributed to them with each pump of his heart. After what seemed like he'd been in hell all over again, Jo nodded to Sam and Bobby and they released him from their strongholds. Dean scowled and nearly ripped the phone out of Sam's hands.
"Ellen, your daughter is a butcher."
"Serves you damn well after the hell you put her through. You put all of us through it when you went chasing after Bloody Mary. Christ, Dean, if I had known ahead of time I'd have killed you myself. I'm in Missouri. Tell Jo to keep watch out for Mac Beemer for me."
"Will do." Dean clapped the phone shut and winced as he handed it back to Sam. Sam snickered and Dean through him a dirty look. "Bitch."
"Jerk."
Jo touched Dean's gauze lightly and frowned at both of them. "All right, children. Gumby here's gotta get some rest before you even think about going out again. So-" she threw Dean his shirt, "-there are a few rooms upstairs for you and Sam, Bobby."
"What about Dean?"
"Yeah what about m…"
Bobby thwapped Dean upside his skull to make him shut his cocky ass up. Jo scowled and shrugged. "He can use my room. I have a cot."
Bobby shook his head. "No way, kid. I'm not letting you sleep on the cot even if he's dying. You're the lady." Dean grunted again. This time, Sam was there to catch him upside the head. Then Bobby finished with, "Sam, you can sleep in the Impala. Gimpy can sleep in the spare."
Sam whined pathetically as he grabbed his pack and his beer and headed for the door. "I always have to sleep in the damn car…"
"All right, Jo. You need some rest. I'll take him up to bed."
Jo smiled and thanked him, but as she started to walk away, Dean saw another opportunity to push her buttons. "Nice ass, schweet-haht" in a 40's swagger voice.
Bobby had barely enough time to react before Jo hurled her bottle at Dean's head. It barely missed him, but a hard grimace took over his face as blood spilled out of his torn stitches. "Shit…"
Jo immediately – and only partially – regretted throwing the bottle now as Dean patted at his freshly opened wound with his fingers, drawing blood each time. Bobby gave him a "dumbass" as he went to grab the gauze. But Jo took it off his hands and stood between him and Dean. "It's okay, Bobby. I've got it. You go hit the hay. I'll send him up."
Bobby shrugged and didn't question Jo's motives. As soon as he was gone, Jo gave Dean a swift slap across his face. "Ever make a move like that again, Bobby won't be there to stop me from kicking your ass so hard, hell is gonna be like a sweet memory."
Dean grabbed the base of Jo's throat with one hand, openly bleeding out and not caring as much. "Don't talk to me about hell."
Then he saw Jo's eyes grow wide and realized what he was doing. He released her neck as quickly as he had grabbed on and instead put his hand over his wound. "Jo I…I didn't mean to…"
Jo mockingly shook it off and occupied herself with his wound. "Don't."
Dean sighed. "Jo, what is this?"
Jo's fingers slid across Dean's ribs as if she was wilting and then suddenly he had it so their foreheads were pressed together. "I don't know."
Dean caressed her cheek and looked down where she was looking as she continued to gauze him, more slowly now. "Since last night, you haven't said anything to me about...last night."
Jo's spine shivered as she remembered last night. The ways he had touched her…but it was so empty all of a sudden. She knew they couldn't play this game.
"Dean…I love you."
Dean suddenly broke their contact and turned his face from her. "Don't."
"I love you…but I can't do this anymore." And for the 3rd time in his life, Dean Winchester cried.