I'm back! This is the sequel to Shelter, the one I've been going on and on about. I hope you guys enjoy!
"We're hunters, dad, not carpenters." Dean whined picking up the hammer. "This thing is gonna blow over with the first strong wind."
John barely spared a glance from the book he was flipping through to acknowledge his son's pessimism. "It's not that difficult, Dean. Just do as I say and it'll be fine."
"You sure you want to be living this close to Bobby?" Dean smirked feeling the old man step behind him. He got the reaction he expected when he received a swift slap to the back of the head.
"Don't be idjit," Bobby growled taking the hammer out of Dean's hands. "And help your father."
And he did. Dean could see flashes of the house as a skeleton in his mind, putting up the dry wall with Sam, the rooms slowly forming. The kitchen in the back of the house, the dining room in the front, the living room across a small foyer, a small study in the back. He looked down quickly to see the scar on his thumb was there. The scar he received from the nail gun, placing down the flooring for one of the five rooms upstairs. No one ever said out loud how it had a striking resemblance to a house in Kansas.
He pulled up parallel to the house, a spot he knew in his gut that he'd parked in a thousand times. He scanned his eyes over the lot, everything is different, yet everything is exactly where it should be.
The wide gravel driveway he's on continues straight and then forks, one driveway veering sharply to the left. Harvelle's. He knew it.
There's now patches of grass where piles of wrecked cars used to be. He could still see them in the distance, although now they were contained to a designated area, instead of the haphazard heaps they used to be.
"We'll aren't y'all a sight for sore eyes?" A distinct female voice came from the porch steps.
Jo's head whipped around to meet her mother's gaze. "Mom?" He voice barely a whisper as she scampered out of the car. "Mom!" She exclaimed throwing herself into Ellen's waiting arms.
"Whoa," Ellen wrapped her arms around her daughter taking a step back, trying to keep her balance. "It must have been a doosey," She pulled back to look at Jo, "Come on, I'll heat you up some food."
"Well," Dean clapped his hands together looking over at Sam. "Let's get this show started."
Sam rolled his eyes and let himself out of the car.
"You guys alright?" John Winchester appeared from the side of the house, wiping his grease stained hands on a rag.
Sam nodded numbly, not taking his eyes from his father. "Yeah Dad."
John's brow creased, examining his youngest son. "Okay, Sammy."
Dean eased himself out of the driver seat.
"Dean." John greeted as he examined the Impala for any scratches or dents. He nodded in approval finding none.
"Dad." Dean nodded at him before he went to the trunk for his bag. He didn't want to seem too eager. He had just seen his father a week ago, but really it had been years. Dean's whole body was tense fighting the urge to hug his father, shake his hand, anything just to know he wasn't a hallucination.
John nodded his head toward the front door. "Ellen made dinner."
Jo walked aimlessly through the hallway of John's house. She examined every photo hanging on the walls, running her finger tips over the small cabinet there beneath them. Foggy memories of taking some of the photos and the days they were shot filtered through her mind.
A smile ghosted on her lips as she pushed the screen door open. She stopped dead in her tracks as she spotted John sitting in a rocking chair, a book in his lap.
"Jo." He greeted.
"Hello." She croaked. The old choke hold of fear and hatred of the man before her lingered even though the hazy memory of sitting at the kitchen table of this very house with that very man in front of her assaulted Jo's senses.
"Are you alright?" John cocked his head and studied her.
Jo felt exposed, "Yeah, I'm fine," Her voice came out in a breathy gasp.
"You seem skittish."
"Nope, cool as a cucumber."
"Jo."
"John." She was stalling. I was completely obvious, she cleared her throat, "Do you know where Dean is?"
John's brows furrowed, "I would assume he would be in your shared apartment."
Jo nodded, memories of the apartment above the garage came to her just as quickly as the others, "Yup, I'll go look there."
Jo pushed the door to the apartment open to find Sam and Dean sitting at the small dining table. "This is so weird." She exclaimed as she shut the door behind her.
"You're telling me." Sam muttered taking a chug of his beer.
Dean just watched Jo, waiting for her to look around at her surroundings.
As Dean knew they would, Jo's eyes roamed around the room. She could remember decorating the apartment with Dean, bickering over furniture or the placement of pictures, painting and... getting distracted during painting. She blushed at the memory.
The was an old worn in couch off to the right of the door, a small television set across from it. The kitchen was relatively small, but Jo didn't do much cooking, and whatever cooking they did, was at the house. Jo knew that much. There were two bedrooms down the hall. Sam had stayed in the second one for awhile, but quickly got sick of Jo and Dean and moved back into the house with John. Jo smiled remembering the day Sam told them he was moving out.
Jo picked up a candid photo of herself and Dean, smiling at each other, completely oblivious to the world around them. She found herself mirroring her own smile as she looked up at Dean. "It's all real, isn't it?"
Dean smiled back up at her, Sam too, "Yeah, I think it is." Dean stood and wrapped her in his arms.
"It's a good ending." Sam noted from over the top of his beer, "You know, after all the shit we've been through."
"Nah," Jo smirked still looking around the room, "I think this is just the beginning."
Hope you guys liked it so far! Please please please let me know what you think! Please review!