Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me, but to its owners (like the awesome creator, Eric Kripke). The words are, however, mine. Story title after Great Northern's amazing album with the same name.
Author's Note I: I love this show and I love this ship, so I decided to write a story from Jo's point of view, starting from the day she learns of Dean's death and following her to that first time sees him again years later. I know there are probably many inconsistencies in this story and that a lot may be AU (you'll notice after reading the story, but it's nothing really major, so if you hate AU it won't be all that painful to get through this, or at least I hope so), but I've done my best with being as realistic as possible and try to explain things we don't know much about (like what Jo and Ellen were up to after they lost contact with the Winchesters). Also, I'd like to thanks Lyndsie Fenele for editing this monster one-shot. She did an awesome job.
I'd love to hear any comments on my characterizations (it's been real tough with trying to stay true to their characters, but I've done my best!), on the writing in general and anything else you might have mind. I'm open to praise and criticism alike. But enough about me and my laments about this story that I actually loved writing – I'm just hoping you'll like it!
Remind Me Where the Light Is
May, 2008
Jo had known something wasn't right the minute she saw her mother's number on her caller ID. It was a feeling Jo would never be able to explain, because it was nothing she'd ever felt before, nothing she was familiar with. She had hesitated a fraction of a second before picking up, not sure she wanted to hear whatever it was her mother had to tell her. They hadn't spoken in ages; Ellen had long since realized that calling Jo and trying to convince her to come home wouldn't do the trick, so instead she had just toned down on the dialing. And that had worked just fine with Jo. So it was all surprising and scary at the same time when Jo saw it was her mother calling.
The phone call was pretty cryptic, to say the least; Jo barely made out what it was her mother was telling her, because she wouldn't stop crying and that right there scared the crap out of Jo. She had asked her what was wrong, but Ellen refused to say, just told her to get to Bobby's as fast as humanly possible, and Jo did as she was told. Just this once, she wouldn't fight her mother.
She hopped into her beloved truck that had cost her all of her savings (and was damn well worth it) and drove twenty hours straight, all the way back to South Dakota, a heavy weight at the pit of her stomach. She wondered as she drove past endless landscape and forgotten towns if this had anything to do with the two brothers, but ever since Duluth she had promised herself not to think of either one of them, still pissed at them for having appeared out of the blue, for having had her world turned upside down, and then taking off without a backwards glance. She hadn't asked around and she had avoided other hunters, had tried her best to just keep her eyes on the price and bring down as many sons of bitches as she could possibly manage. That was her life and she didn't mind it one bit.
She was nervous. The minute she stopped the truck and got a good look at Bobby's seemingly abandoned place, something squeezed uncomfortably at her insides and for a second, she couldn't breathe. She wasn't used to this behavior; it wasn't often that her nerves got the better of her, made her this squeamish. Jo was usually pretty good at taking control over her own emotions.
She looked around the yard, trying to find anything that might indicate her mother's sadness, and the only thing that wasn't there and that she noticed, was that the Impala was nowhere in sight. Jo was very aware that Bobby was close to the Winchesters, as was her mother, and she wondered if what she was about to find out concerned them. Maybe they were on their way, about to find out something very important as well. That thought calmed Jo somewhat and she headed for the entrance. Still, something wasn't right and that Dean and Sam would come any minute now just seemed like a silly fantasy. Sometimes she just couldn't stand herself.
It was warm; the sun was hot today and the air was humid and Jo wasn't at all comfortable. The tension that hung heavy in the air didn't change things either. She didn't knock. She knew she didn't have to and it didn't feel rude. It felt natural, even though she wasn't that close to Bobby.
"Hello?" she called, because there was only silence inside the house, that was in temperature much cooler than outside.
She heard boards creaking from the floor above and her heart stopped. She instantly grabbed her father's knife and had her senses all attuned to her surroundings. Pretty soon after that, however, her mother made herself known by hurrying down the steps, a bottle of Jack Daniels in her hand. That right there didn't sit right with Jo; Jack Daniels wasn't her mother's first choice of whisky, and that could only mean that something was seriously off.
Ellen looked worn but relieved as she laid eyes on her daughter. Jo couldn't tell what it was that her mother was about to tell her, but she knew it was something that would most likely break her heart, because the sadness in her eyes was one she hadn't seen since she was a little girl and she realized her father wasn't coming back.
"Mom?" was all she managed to utter, because now, more than ever, she was truly terrified.
What her mother did was walk right up to her and hug her, which was understandable, since she hadn't seen her daughter since God knew when. It had been a while, to say the least.
"What's wrong, Mom?" she asked next, resolute on hearing what it was she needed to hear, but scared all the same.
"It's… Oh, Jo, I wish I didn't have to tell you this… I don't know how much you've heard about the boys lately," she began and Ellen didn't have to explain to her daughter who 'the boys' were, as that was what she called The Winchesters and that was basic knowledge.
Right there, right then, she knew what this was about. She had tried to talk herself out of it, tried to reason with herself that such a feat couldn't be possible, but she knew and she didn't know what to do with that information because who was he to her, really?
It took her mother two words and Jo knew what'd be coming next. "It's Dean."
Her heart stopped beating, really stopped, and she couldn't see clearly because tears gathered quickly in her eyes.
"He's dead."
**
The months following the news that Dean was not only dead, but in hell, were a haze of chaos and desperation. Chaos because the thought that he was gone just didn't seem right at all and she couldn't make out neither head nor toe of the situation. Desperation because for some inexplicable reason there was a gaping hole in her chest and all she wanted was to get it back, or mend it, or whatever. While she had always known that Dean had seen her as a naïve schoolgirl and had probably found her cute in a pretty platonic way, what she had felt from the minute he had walked in the Roadhouse had been a bit more, even though she'd spent many months convincing herself otherwise. She wasn't sure what Dean meant to her. All she knew was that he was gone and that that fact broke her heart continuously. Making sense of it was just a whole other story.
She stayed with her mother at Bobby's, who said he didn't mind the company one bit, as long as deemed appropriate before she took off again. This time, however, she wasn't alone. Her mother, convinced that hunting on her own after such an event was a bad idea, decided that if Jo wanted to hunt, she could hunt, as long as she was by her side.
The idea wasn't appealing at all at first, but then, quite out of the blue, she was reminded of the time – really the only time – she had hunted with the Winchesters. She and Dean had been walking down the corridors of the haunted building, EMFs in hands, and Dean had told her she was lucky to have someone to care. Her mother had looked at her funny, and Jo couldn't even imagine the expression that adorned her features, but it ended with a relieved sigh and an embrace. Jo was lucky to have someone that still cared for her and she'd rather have her mother by her side than anyone else.
"Are you sure you don't want to stay? There's room," Bobby tried again, but her mother just chuckled merrily.
"I know there is, Bobby. But I'm sure you're tired of the lady-drama," Ellen said and Jo saw from the corner of her eye that her mother indicated Jo with a nudge of her head.
"I saw that," was all she said, and Ellen feigned ignorance.
"Well, you know where I live," he said finally and gave them both a hug when, after almost three weeks, it was time to go.
"We'll keep in touch," her mother stated, but Jo heard that she was just trying to convince herself, as well as Bobby. Just a bunch of empty promises, as always.
"We will," was his answer, eyes slightly downcast, but hidden behind a brave façade.
"Let me know if Sam calls you back!" Ellen called out from where she sat in the red truck, and Bobby turned to face them once again.
"I will," he said and waved them off.
Ever since her mother had told her of the circumstances in which Dean had died, she had focused more on the fact that Dean was in hell rather than Sam was alone. She had always liked Sam, even though her latest memories with him weren't the brightest ones, but she wasn't sure what to think nowadays. Jo wondered where he was, what he was up to, sure, but everything felt shady to her. That, too, was an inexplicable feeling and she tried to avoid thinking of Sam whenever she could.
"That boy hasn't even called but twice since Dean's… passin'. Bobby's been worried sick," Ellen said, determined on starting a conversation with her daughter.
"Well, it's hard imagining what he's going through, Mom. We all know how close they were. He probably just needs time," Jo said, trying to stay diplomatic.
"He probably does."
They didn't talk again until Jo swung off toward the highway.
"Erm, Jo, honey? We're supposed to be headin' north. That's east."
"I know. We need to make a stop."
"A stop where?"
"Illinois."
**
It was pretty hard to find the exact place where Bobby and Sam had chosen to bury Dean. Bobby had told them Pontiac, but the exact location was another story. Jo eventually found the place, determination leading the way. It was in the heart of a copse, far off from any kind of life, just roads and dirt and open landscape in the vicinity.
Her mother hadn't said a word when she had realized where they were headed and Jo had been grateful; it wasn't often that she'd feel vulnerable like this, or that she'd even show it, and it didn't matter that it was her mother alongside her. Jo didn't like public display of emotions, especially when the emotions hurt like hell. Hell. The mere word made her shiver, made her throat tighten, made her think of Dean.
"Jo, hon, why don't you slow down," she heard her mother advise from somewhere behind her, but Jo wouldn't. She fought her way through roots and bushes and she ignored the warmth, ignored her need for a break. She needed to see his grave.
"I'm sure we're there soon," Jo said breathless, but didn't get a respond, which she thought was because her mother hadn't heard her. Had Ellen heard her she'd have something to say, Jo was sure.
Minutes later – or hours, Jo couldn't really tell the difference – she saw a small clearing ahead of her, alighted by the hot rays of the sun and in the middle, a cross marking a grave.
Her heart skipped a beat in apprehension and it was really in that moment that she realized the horrifying truth: Dean was gone and she would never see him again.
"Jo, why did you –" her mother never got to finish her question as she too laid eyes on the place ahead.
They didn't share another word; just walked the final yards toward the clearing and when they got there, Ellen grabbed Jo's hand. It reminded Jo of when she was a little girl and she would want to run and explore her surroundings, but Ellen would want to talk to her first, warn her of what she might find and that she had to be careful. This was after her father had died.
Suddenly, Jo didn't want to be there. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was, looking down on the handmade cross. There wasn't a patch of brown dirt where Dean now laid, nature having taken over, and that fact right there kind of broke her heart. Because this was real and he was six feet under and she wished she had seen him after Duluth, wished she had called him instead, as a friend simply checking in. As a fellow hunter, nothing else. But no, she had been too stubborn, and hurt, even though she knew he'd never be the one to reach out.
Jo wished she had done things differently, wished she had kept updated, wished she had known about his deal. Maybe this would have been easier to cope with. Maybe.
"Jo, why don't we head back?"
She was awakened from her thoughts by Ellen's soft voice, and just then did Jo realize that her cheeks were wet with tears.
"I wish I'd done some things different, Mom," was all she said, in need of making her mother understand.
"I know, baby girl. I know," Ellen said and then let go of Jo's hand to embrace her.
They stood there for what seemed like ages, but eventually left, leaving behind Dean Winchester's final place of rest. Both knew, however, that in this case, that was all a load of bullshit. Wherever Dean was, he was not in some peaceful place resting. And that fact broke both their hearts.
**
The months following Dean's death were months that simply blurred into one; new town every other week, new hunt, new places and new nightmares to be dealt with. Jo and Ellen dived headfirst into cases that seemed remotely supernatural related and they didn't mind it. Jo was excited (or as excited as can be after such a blow) to be back on the job, and Ellen was once able to swallow her pride and agree with her daughter that it was kind of nice helping people and making the world a bit of a better place for those who were defenseless.
That was all Jo needed for her day to be filled with sunshine and daisies; as well as some tasteful gore, too, of course.
But despite the work that had them occupied, Jo wasn't always focused. She had slipped on research once or twice, but her mother hadn't pointed this out, even though she knew the reason behind it. Jo had expected some reprimanding from her mother, how next time she screwed up it might be in the middle of a fight, but there was nothing. Just the sadness in her eyes whenever she looked at her.
One day, however, Ellen couldn't ignore it.
"Jo, hon, how about we just take a couple of days to ourselves before the next hunt? We've been workin' our asses off and I say we need a brief break."
Ellen was folding freshly laundered clothes while Jo sat on her bed in the motel room, poring over the papers, looking for the next job. Two months had already gone by, but it wasn't often that Jo would think of the days and how time seemed to pass them by with the blink of an eye. She liked to live in the now.
She had looked up when she heard her mother's suggestion, disbelief appearing all over her features.
"It's not like we can take a break from a job like this, Mom. There are innocent people that need our help," Jo defended, not at all liking the thought of taking her time to be with herself and her thoughts. God only knew how far off the radar she truly was.
"Well, you might not see it, but maybe I need to spend some genuine quality time with my daughter too."
"Quality time? Mom, we spend pretty much every minute of everyday together and a lot of that time stuck in a car. How much more quality time could you possibly need?" Jo knew exactly what her mother meant, but she wasn't about to give in. People needed her help.
Ellen said nothing, fuming instead, knowing that convincing Jo of doing something as necessary as taking a break from hunting monsters and ghosts was pretty much a lost battle.
"It's just not that, Jo," her mother suddenly said very seriously, and Jo looked up once again to look at her mother, her expression suddenly guarded.
"Then what is it?"
"I'm worried about you," Ellen began after a slight hesitation. Jo didn't say anything and so her mother continued. "I've been keepin' quiet, because I know you're still hurtin' –" Jo was to interrupt her mother but Ellen wouldn't have it and continued, "– but you have slipped more than once on research and next time you might not be as lucky. Maybe next time you'll slip durin' a fight and the consequences are ones I don't even want to think about."
This time, Jo was the one fuming, not wanting to acknowledge the truth in her mother's words. She had done just fine ignoring her screw ups these past few weeks.
"Then don't think about them."
"Jo, I won't have you talkin' to me like that. I am still your mother."
"Oh, joy."
They stared each other out, Jo losing the fight. "Alright, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. But seriously, Mom, I'm fine. And I won't mess up again."
"I still think we need a break. We've been killin' ourselves and I'm not talkin' about a week, I'm talking a couple of days."
"Mom… Look, I appreciate it, but I don't think I can take a couple of days off. I really need this."
Many would have thought this to be an act, but Ellen could read her daughter like no one else and Jo was sincere. And it was only because of that fact that she gave up.
"Okay, Jo. Our vacation will have to wait, then."
**
October, 2008
It had been more than a month since Ellen and Jo had heard from Bobby, but neither were particularly worried, although things had become slightly active on the warfront, they had noticed. They hadn't heard a thing about Sam either in quite a while, not since last speaking to Bobby and that time it was the same answer as the time before.
"He's alive, as far as I know."
So when they were one morning packing to head on the road again, and Ellen's phone rang, mother and daughter shared a look of surprise. Ellen picked up the phone and gathering from the greeting, Jo knew it was Bobby.
Jo resumed packing her stuff, but when things turned too quiet, she looked at her mother, who had gone pale.
"How… How can that even be possible?"
Jo straightened up, suddenly slightly puzzled as to what could have her mother react in such a way. Ellen, realizing Jo was in the same room, went to the bathroom swiftly, locking the door behind her.
"Well, that's a whole new bucket of weird," Jo muttered and returned to her belongings.
She was done packing by the time her mother decided to appear again. Jo looked up, not really knowing what to expect to see on her mother's face, but she knew it had not been puffy, red eyes and a swollen nose.
"Have you been crying?" Jo asked incredulously, and Ellen said nothing, just seemingly gathering strength.
"That was Bobby," her mother said in a hoarse voice.
"Yeah, I figured," Jo said in a tone that urged her mother to continue, incredibly intrigued by now.
"He called to tell me… He called to tell me somethin' about Dean."
"Dean? Mom, what are you talking –"
"He's alive. Jo, Bobby said he's alive."
In that instant, everything around Jo seemed to stop; time, space and everything in between. Her heart didn't seem to be beating and no part of her brain was working properly. Had she even heard her mother correctly? Because Dean couldn't be alive. She had visited his grave. She had seen tears in Bobby's eyes. It just wasn't possible.
"Mom, that's not possible. He made a deal, the hell hounds tore him to shreds."
"Yes, yes, they did."
"Well, then, why would Bobby say something like that?" She was starting to become upset. This was definitely nothing to joke about.
"Because it's the truth. It was September 18, and he appeared at Bobby's doorstep, without even a scar, except for a hand print burned on his upper arm."
"What –? You're not making any sense. It's probably an impostor –"
Ellen broke Jo off. "Don't you think Bobby, or even Sam, might have made sure of that the very minute they laid eyes on him?"
Jo was silent. Her mother was right.
A thousand thoughts streamed through her head and she felt slightly light-headed, because this was impossible. How many times had she pictured Dean being alive these past few months, just torturing herself because she knew that she'd never see him again? And now, hearing he was alive…
"How? How is this possible? Unless, Sam made a deal, but that's just stupid," Jo said and looked at her mother, hoping not to be right, but sincerely expecting it to be true.
Her mother chuckled and Jo was startled by the sound. This could hardly be classified as a situation where one would laugh.
"He didn't, but I'm sure he tried. Bobby was brief, which was pretty stupid, because what he said sounds too crazy to be true."
"Spit it out, Mom," Jo said impatiently and Ellen ignored her daughter's rudeness.
"Angels, Jo. It was an angel that saved Dean from Hell."
Silence followed her mother's crazy revelation, and Jo expected her to laugh and exclaim that it had all been a joke, but now, she looked as serious as could be to convince someone who wasn't entirely convinced herself.
"Angels? That's what Bobby said? Wow, he must have really had hit that bottle –"
"That's not funny, Jo. But yeah, that's what Bobby said and what we need to do know is get over there and have him explain what the hell he's talking about."
Jo said nothing, just sat down on her bed, her thoughts still overwhelming. Dean was alive and he had been saved by an angel. She still couldn't believe it, not until she saw it with her own eyes. She had never been so keen on faith, but knowing that demons existed, she had occasionally thought that angels surely existed as well. You couldn't have one without the other, right? But she had never seen an angel, had never heard of anyone who had seen an angel, so that was why she had difficulty believing. Demons were another story entirely, because she'd seen them with her own eyes.
Her mother sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Jo was taken aback, not having seen her mother approach her.
"How you doin', honey?" she asked and looked at her with those understanding eyes, a bit downcast.
"I'm not sure, Mom."
I'm not sure of anything anymore, she thought, but never voiced it out loud, thoughts scattered and heart torn.
They sat silently beside each other, and after what seemed like hours, Ellen said, "I'm not sure either, honey."
**
The journey to Bobby's from North Carolina was pretty long because of the need for answers, the curiosity and agitation that now constantly followed her wherever she went. She couldn't drive fast enough, couldn't get there fast enough and it was tearing at her insides. She needed answers, always been one hungry for knowledge. Her mother had to tell her to get her foot off the gas pedal one too many times and after an entire day of awkward silences because both had loads to say but didn't know how to say it, they finally arrived at Bobby's.
Jo stopped her truck in front of his house and when she got out, she started eyeing her surroundings, not sure what it was she was looking for. She saw a curtain fall back into its place from her peripheral vision and next thing she knew Bobby had opened his front door, welcoming them both.
"Never would've guessed you'd get here this quick," Bobby said as greeting and Ellen grunted in response.
"That was all Jo," she said and continued in a low voice, "she's been scaring the livin' daylights out of me that girl."
"Mom, I heard that."
Ellen said nothing, just shrugged half-heartedly and then took a seat in Bobby's kitchen.
"Alright, Bobby," she said, her voice all business. "Will you please tell us what the hell is going on?"
Jo took a seat beside her mother, her heart racing. She still couldn't believe Dean was alive.
"Want a beer?" Bobby asked Ellen and Jo before taking his seat across from them. They said thanks as he placed the beers in front of him and Jo noticed that he himself had a bottle of soda in his hand. She wasn't sure what to think of it, so she shrugged it off and focused as he began to tell the story.
He started by telling them how he had received a phone call on September 18 from someone who claimed he was Dean. He continued with how he had barely believed it even though Dean was standing in front of him, without so much as a scar on him. But it had been him; nothing, not silver, not holy water, nothing took. He'd been resurrected. He went on with how they had found Sam in Pontiac, Illinois; how Sam too had tried to hurt him and confessed that he had tried to make a deal but that no demon was willing to trade their places. At this point Jo and Ellen shared quite an exasperated look, but said nothing.
They had no idea who might have decided to save Dean, no clue whatsoever. Until they went to Pamela and Ellen smiled at the mention of her old acquaintance. The smile quickly vanished, however, when Bobby said what this… angel had done to her: burned out her eyes.
"What do you mean, burned out her eyes?" Ellen exclaimed in rage. "Why would it do such a thing?"
"Well, apparently because we humans can't perceive their true form. It warned her, but Pamela wouldn't back down."
After this outburst, Bobby continued with the story, told them about this man appearing in the old barn, how nothing seemed to hurt him and how he had touched him with two fingers and everything had gone dark.
"Dean filled me in on the details. Apparently they saved him because they – as in the holiness above – have work for him to do."
This time Jo spoke. "Work? What is that supposed to mean?"
"The Apocalypse."
Deep down, Jo had expected that something as crazy like that was going on, but nonetheless, it took her off guard. "The Apocalypse? Hell on earth, fire-ridden meteors falling like rain from the sky?"
"Yep. That kind of Apocalypse."
"You have to be kiddin' me," Ellen whispered, eyes looking beyond Bobby's dusty kitchen table.
"I'm not. I'm surprised you haven't heard anything. Haven't you been haunted by the ghosts of people you have failed to save?" Bobby asked confused and both shook their heads.
"Weird."
"Why would we be haunted?"
And Bobby told them about Lilith and the breaking of the 66 seals.
"She's tryin' to free Lucifer? The Devil himself?" Ellen exclaimed once again, not wanting to believe a word Bobby was saying.
"Yes."
They sat in silence for what felt like forever. Next time anyone spoke, it was Jo. "How… How are they? Dean and Sam?" she asked, something heavy appearing at the pit of her stomach.
"My guess is they're just fine. On the road again, trying to deal with all this crap. Those angels are not a happy bunch, I'll tell you right now. And not fond of straight answers either, from what I hear. Last I heard from the boys they were in Rock Ridge, Colorado. Dean caught a Ghost Sickness, of all things. I went over there to help Sam get rid of the ghost, since Dean could barely even look himself in the mirror without seeing something that wasn't there and die of fear."
Jo's heart was beating uncontrollably, but she didn't know from what.
"I'm glad you were there to help 'em, Bobby," said Ellen and took a swig of her beer. When she placed it on the table once again, she looked intently at it and suddenly said, "You know what, I think I might need something a tad bit stronger than this."
"Duly noted," was all Bobby said before he took off to the liquor cabinet.
"I can't believe we're up against the Apocalypse," her mother said in a serious tone, worry written all over her face.
Jo didn't answer – because really, what was there to say?
**
2008-2009
After staying at Bobby's one night, they left and went back on the road, their hearts heavy and their heads filled with the image of the world being enclosed in hellfire. Jo had no idea where they were headed, and she was sure her mother wasn't either, but they drove and drove, until night closed in and they pulled in on a rather questionable motel somewhere in North Dakota.
They had barely spoken that entire day, their thoughts all-consuming and somber. How could Jo explain to her mother the fear she felt in her chest when she barely understood it? Because it wasn't all about the Apocalypse, it really wasn't, it was more the part they would all have to play in it.
When Jo closed her eyes, longing to sleep, she, very much against her will, saw Dean appearing in her mind's eye. She groaned inwardly, because she really didn't want to think about him more than necessary, since the feeling in her belly was very distracting. She wondered what he was up to, what he was thinking and if he remembered anything from Hell at all. Jo had a hard time imagining how it'd be to have to deal with such memories as well as with the weight of a looming Apocalypse and she had suddenly the urge to call and just check on him, just to hear his voice, hear with her own ears that he wasn't dead but very much alive because it still felt like she was in some kind of dream and she was aching to wake up.
Sometimes things were too good to be true.
When Jo woke up the next morning, tired and worn, but still calm after Bobby's revelation, she was eager to get to work. She went off to get herself and her mother coffee as well as the morning newspaper, wondering if anything interesting had happened in the area.
That was the first day of what would become several months of work and pain and worry, but Jo never really minded the job, and never would. The days passed so quick she sometimes had to stop and ask herself what day of the week it was or what date of the month. That was how Ellen and Jo lived: on the road, working, trying (and succeeding) to beat whatever monster or nightmare they happened to come across.
They would occasionally hear from Bobby, who kept them updated on the war between angels and demon, on the Apocalypse, the seals and the Winchesters' progress.
As the days and weeks passed by, Jo's inexplicable feelings for Dean would fade, become that thing in the background that you don't have time to pay attention to, that nagging thought that is just tuned out against all other thoughts, because it's no longer of such importance. Sometimes she'd wonder, but she'd tell herself to move on and let go and she'd succeed.
She'd flirt and laugh and Ellen would sigh the minute Jo would walk through their motel room at 6 a.m. and fling herself on her bed. Her mother would worry and fuss, but Jo would tell her that she was no saint and that she deserved her fun.
"You do too, by the way," she'd say, and Ellen would scoff.
One day, months later, Ellen received a call from Rufus asking for their help. A town in River Pass, Colorado, had been filled with demon activity and Rufus, who had been closing in on them, suddenly realized the town was full of them and he needed immediate back-up.
Luckily for all of them, they weren't far at all, maybe two hours at the most.
When they got there, the town was deserted. There wasn't anybody in sight and Jo had never experienced anything as eerie as that. They both were armed with shotguns, and they also carried each two handguns tucked away safely underneath their jackets.
They walked silently, both trying to figure out what might have happened in this godforsaken town.
"Maybe you should give Rufus a call, Mom, see if he's still around," Jo suggested, very much interested to hear what the hell was going on with this place. Cars were abandoned in the middle of a street, still running, the radio playing; others had collided, but that was all. Not a sign of a single person around.
"You're right," Ellen said and grabbed her cell, dialing Rufus's number, but he didn't answer. When she was about to try again, she saw she had lost her signal. "Now that's mighty weird," she muttered.
That was when they heard someone approaching from somewhere to their right and they cocked their guns automatically, only to see that it was Rufus walking over to them, breathless.
"Thank God you're here," he said, and Ellen and Jo shared a suspicious look. It was Jo who had the flask with holy water. As soon as Rufus stood in front of them, Jo splashed his face with water, something that left him very disgruntled.
"And you couldn't have asked?" he said upset and dried his face with his shirt.
"Ah, don't blame her, now, Rufus. We're being extra precautious," Ellen said and went over to give him a pat on the back.
"Let's talk business, though, shall we?"
What followed was Rufus's explanation about the town (starting by stating 'I've never experienced anything as nuts as this, I'll tell you that'), about half of it being possessed by demons, and then the three of them splitting up, which might have been their stupidest idea so far.
Jo understood Rufus by the end of the day – she'd never experienced anything close to the events that had occurred. A Horseman on the loose wasn't anything you came across that often either.
It was scary, how close she had come to hurt people she cared about, how they'd done anything to survive. And when they had gotten Sam with his demon eyes, she'd felt ruthless, and she couldn't explain it when she, later that night, went to sleep. Maybe it had to do with the fact that it reminded her of Duluth, and it took her off guard, because she should have been well past that by then.
But nothing had been as scary as the moment she laid eyes on him again. She had pictured it many times, had thought a lot about him, had wanted to call him just to make sure it was still him and now, there he was and all he said was "Hi, Jo," as if they had parted on fairly good terms the last time they'd seen each other. They hadn't. At least not if you asked her.
She had wanted to hug him. And the minute that thought had passed through her entire system, she had been filled with the urge to slap herself, because she wasn't that naïve little girl anymore, the one with the crush on the older guy; she'd grown up and she could keep her feelings under control. But for some reason, as soon as Dean Winchester was in the picture, it was all pointless, because the minute she had learned he was in town, reason just flew right out the window and she couldn't really trust herself.
Time hadn't stopped, nothing had stopped (although her heart might have skipped a giant beat) – no, instead it had all gone too fast and soon enough they were gone, he was gone, and yet again, without a backwards glance and a world turned upside down.
**
Jo never would have guessed that, only weeks after River Pass, she'd be struggling to breathe because of hell hounds trying to rip her apart and damn well near succeeding.
Jo was tired. She was cold and she had a hard time keeping pressure on her wound. Everything was shutting down.
They had locked themselves in a hardware store, which couldn't have been more convenient. Jo convinced her mother and the boys to build a bomb, and let her set it off, because, even though they all knew it but wouldn't say it, this was the end for her. She wouldn't get farther than this in life, and it was okay as long as she could do something good for this world one final time. This was the only way and they knew it.
Sam was the first one to say goodbye. He didn't say anything; he just approached her and grabbed her hand, holding it in between his own. Jo tried her best to smile, tried to reassure him without saying anything, because it hurt like hell when she spoke. She was a little saddened by how far off the grid her relationship with Sam had gone. She knew, had things just worked out differently, that he could've been that brother she'd always wanted when she was a little girl.
He then rose to his feet, without a word, just a final glance. They said nothing, because it wasn't necessary. Jo didn't look to see where he went. By then, she only had eyes for Dean, who was sorting out the wires, walking up to her.
They were about to leave, because it was time; they had to kill Lucifer and end the Apocalypse. She was also aware that it was soon time for her to go, because she was getting chillier by the minute, tired and sluggish. Death was slowly enclosing her in its icy embrace.
Dean crouched beside her and he told her he'd see her on the other side, sooner rather than later, and she told him tiredly, 'Make it later', because there was an Apocalypse out there and she knew he had to be the one to stop it and he would, in his own way. The Angels had saved him for a reason.
He grabbed her hand, where he placed the detonator that would set off the bomb. He didn't let go, but squeezed her hand tenderly. At his touch, there was something akin to butterflies in the pit of her belly, and Jo was happy at that fact. Slightly embarrassed, but happy all the same; it was nice to feel something other than cold and blood pouring out of your stomach. Jo looked at Dean, whose expression she couldn't read. For a second, he averted his gaze and looked slightly confused. Then he looked at her and smiled sadly. Jo forced a smile in return; she was tired, but she would try and remain strong until the very end.
Jo suddenly remembered the first time she saw him, remembered the times he had dropped by the Roadhouse, remembered her beating heart and very briefly; it filled her with warmth. Right then he placed his hand by her cheek and he kissed her forehead. She had wanted to delay this moment, but it had been inevitable from the very start. There they were, saying goodbye, and she wanted to tell him everything, wanted just one more day with all of them, but it was the end and she was still doing her best to make peace with that.
Dean drew back and looked at her intently and Jo felt like crying. His eyes spoke volumes, but even now, she didn't want to analyze, didn't want to guess what it was he was realizing. Instead, she just relished in the moment and she tried her best to tell him everything she would never say just by looking at him. Maybe he saw it, maybe he didn't; despite this, he leant forward and captured her lips with his and it was as bittersweet as it could get and Jo didn't want this moment to end. She wanted to stay in it forever.
The final thing that passed through Jo's mind before she finally closed her eyes and went to rest was how relieved she was to have her mother by her side. Ellen had put an arm around her, had tried to keep her as warm as she could, but she had been shaking from grief and Jo had wanted to say something to ease the pain. But time ran out and one minute she was there, the familiar smell of home right beneath her nostrils, and the next she wasn't. Nothing more, nothing less; she was just gone.
Finis
Author Note II: I've never had as much trouble writing the end of a story as I had with this one. Was it rushed? I'm very curious. Anyway, it was probably difficult to write because I still can't believe that these two amazing characters were killed off.
As you have (hopefully) read by now, some parts turned AU after deciding that it worked best with the story I wanted to tell; like Bobby telling Ellen and Jo of Dean's resurrection instead of Rufus, because I can't really believe that they wouldn't have told them earlier. It really bugs me. I'm usually all for canon, but not this time and not when it came to that. I hope you didn't mind. I also hope Jo's character wasn't too OOC (or Ellen's for that matter) – maybe she would have called Dean if she'd known he was alive, maybe she wouldn't. I'm sure Ellen would have, but as it turned out, they didn't in this story, for obvious reasons. Anyway, as I wrote Jo, it sometimes felt out of character for her, but it's my first time ever writing actual Supernatural fanfiction (first time was a drabble from the eyes of an OC, so doesn't count), so I'll just blame my characterization of her in this story on that.
Other than all that, I hope you liked this piece that I've wanted to write for months and that I'm actually quite happy with. Reviews are love!