Dean was sitting in the Impala with the local classic rock station turned on. It wasn't loud enough to draw attention, but loud enough that he could feel the bass thumping under his feet as he watched school children run around on the playground.
They were in town for a case. Kids had been mysteriously ending up in the hospital, deathly sick, one by one, and it had spiked Sam's interest. He had convinced Dean to go with him and check it out. Sam was researching, and Dean had decided to take advantage of the warmth provided by the surprisingly non-hidden-by-clouds sun. Fall had settled in cooler than usual and the cloudless sky that Wednesday allowed the sun to warm the temperatures so that the light jacket he wore was unnecessary.
The small town's school didn't have its own playground, so the kids were walked by a teacher to the small park across the street and allowed to play for recess.
Dean had been sitting there for about fifteen minutes, silently watching, when a small, young, blonde woman emerged from the school. He didn't see her until she tapped the shoulder of the other teacher who had been watching the kids, smiling as she spoke.
Dean's heart faltered in his chest as he watched her. The other teacher stood and said something to her before walking back to the school. The blonde woman sat on the bench, taking her position of watching the children.
Before Dean knew it, he'd turned off the car and was walking up to the bench where she was, not wanting to draw attention be damned. He hadn't even thought before acting. His feet had started moving before he'd told them to, boots crunching over the array of different colored fallen leaves. It wasn't long before he was standing a few feet from her, near the other side of the bench.
He cleared his throat nervously as he stared at her. When she looked up, he fought for words. "Mind if I sit here?" he finally asked, fighting through the tightness in his throat.
She smiled kindly and nodded, her blonde curls bouncing gently. "Sure, yeah," she said, gesturing beside her.
Dean sat down and struggled to think of something to say. He looked up at her, his mouth slightly opened, trying to speak. The cherry red color of her lips, the dirty blonde color of her hair, the brown of her eyes, the southern accent that adorned her words. It couldn't be her. She would have remembered him.
"You all right?" she asked him as she observed his struggle. A small smile turned the corners of her full lips upwards. She tilted her head slightly, and her blonde hair swayed gently as a cool breeze blew past.
Dean blinked, still reveling in the sound of her voice. "Yeah, I just…" he trailed off as he looked into her sincerely concerned brown eyes. "God, you remind me of somebody," Dean chuckled, clearing his throat. He looked down and a glimmer caught his eye. A diamond ring glittered on her ring finger. An engagement ring, no doubt. He looked back up at her again with wide eyes.
She laughed and looked back over to the children before replying. "Well, I hope that's a good thing," she smiled.
"Yeah, that's definitely a good thing." One side of Dean's mouth pulled up in a grin. He knew better than to stare, and he knew it was rude, but he couldn't find it in him to take his gaze off of her. He couldn't quite convince himself that she wasn't going to disappear if he did.
The woman looked back up at him. She was substantially shorter than him, even sitting, just like she'd always been. "You new in town?" she asked, her smile still in place.
"Uh, yeah. Travellin' through, actually." Dean couldn't lie to her, no matter how he tried. A lie wouldn't form in his mind.
She nodded. "Road trippin'?" she clarified.
"Yeah, you could say that," he replied. He hoped he wasn't making her uncomfortable, the way his eyes never left hers, especially with the ring on her finger.
"My fiancee and I love to road trip."
Her fiancee. Dean couldn't help the pang of jealousy he felt.
"Ah," he managed to choke out in response.
After a few moments of silence between the two, she held out her hand. "Jo," she offered.
I know, Dean wanted to say. I know who you are, Jo.
"Dean," he introduced himself, taking her hand and shaking it gently.
Her hand was smooth and small in his large, rough palm.
The smile faded from her face. "Huh," she murmured as she looked into Dean's green eyes.
Dean swallowed. "What?" he asked. Did she remember him? Did she recognize him?
Jo's brow furrowed and she frowned for a moment. Shaking her head, she placed the smile back on her face. "Nothin'. Deja vu or somethin', I guess."
Dean's heart fell. "Yeah," he choked, looking down at their hands, still clasped together. "Sorry," he murmured, letting go.
"That's all right," she laughed. She looked down at her watch then and sighed. "I'm sorry, I've gotta round all of 'em up and get 'em back inside."
Dean nodded, looking back up at her again. His throat grew tight again. Jo started to stand, and he reached out and touched her arm. "Jo," he said quietly.
Jo turned back and sat next to him again. "Yes?" she asked, her small, perfect brow quirked upwards.
Dean stared at her, tracing her features once more, before looking back into her eyes. She had to remember him. She couldn't just forget him. She couldn't forget that kiss. But as he watched, her eyes just grew more confused, more concerned. "Nothin'," he shook his head. "Sorry."
Jo nodded, her brow furrowing. "It was nice to meet you, Dean," she said kindly. She paused, staring at him for a moment, almost as if something clicked, but then shook her head and stood.
Dean watched as the perfect woman rounded up the kids and ushered them across the street and back into the school. The door closed behind her. Suddenly, Dean felt sick to his stomach, knowing he'd lost her again.