I'm shocked people appeared to like this. So, here's the next one. I'm imagining one chapter an episode, maybe two if there's a lot of plot.

If you recognise it, I don't own it.

It had been thirteen days since Ellen's death, and Jo was still grieving. Dean wished that they had at least had a body to burn, to at least give Jo some closure. She was hurting, and hadn't spoken since Death had risen.

Dean had sat on the couch with her for the night, holding her while she cried, dropping soft kisses on the top of her head. Eventually her wracking sobs stopped, and she fell asleep, her head nestled in Dean's shoulder. He didn't dare sleep, even though that was all he wanted to do. Every hour or so, she would shake violently, as if having a nightmare. She never woke up, just shuddered and mumbled. Whenever she did this, Dean would hold her closer, rubbing his hand on her upper back to calm her. The sun set with them in position, and it rose with them like this, Bobby rolling in with a tray on his lap, two plates filled with bacon and pancakes – the only breakfast food Sam could make.

"Dean, do you wanna wake her up? You didn't eat after you came in, she's gonna need food and water, especially with all that cryin'." Bobby looked at the young woman. Even in sleep, her face was contorted with pain. Dean started shaking her slowly.

"Jo...hey, Jo, babe, c'mon. You've gotta eat, ok? C'mon and wake up." Jo roused slowly, blinking. There was a moment of peace on her face before anguish broke through and she closed her eyes. After a few seconds, she realised that she was curled up on Dean's lap, and tried to get up, but her legs were too weak after the long sleep, and collapsed from under her.

"Hey, I know you're jealous of Bobby in his chair, but you're not getting one. Sit up here, Sam made breakfast." Dean helped her settle into the cushions on Bobby's threadbare sofa, and handed her the fuller plate. It may have been meant for him, but Jo needed strength more. She took the plate, looked at the food, and ate. She may have only had a pancake, a piece of bacon and some water, but it was something.

The foursome settled into an uncomfortable routine. Jo stayed on the couch, curled up there. Dean would help her upstairs, get her into bed. She'd walk to the bathroom and back when needed, walk out to the kitchen when food was ready, but couldn't do anything else. Didn't want to do anything else.

It wasn't till Dean had put Jo to bed the thirteenth night that he realised that it was almost Christmas. Snow was on the ground, but they had been so preoccupied on helping Jo get through her pain that they hadn't noticed that the holiday was creeping up on them quickly. Dean walked into the kitchen, interrupting Bobby and Sam's conversation.

"It's December twenty-three." Dean said, simply.

Sam looked up. "Yeah, it's two days till Christmas. A holiday that we don't celebrate."

"I want to this year. Jo needs it. She needs to realise that even though Ellen's gone, she has us. That we're not going anywhere." Dean looked at the two, their heads nodding in unison. "I'm gonna go to Walmart and try get some stuff, have as normal a Christmas as possible. Bobby, I'm gonna take your truck. I won't fit everything into the impala."

Dean drove to the WalMart in Sioux Falls, taking a cart from the greeter at the door. He steeled himself, knowing that he needed to get through this, his hatred of WalMart be damned. He moved the mettle cart through the store, picking up items. He even bought vegetables – carrots, potatoes, green beans and sweet potatoes. He picked up some desperately needed 'everyday' food, as well as a large turkey. He then faced the women's aisle, unsure what Jo would need. He knew she was a girl, and that she'd need girl items, but the idea of actually buying...feminine hygiene products...scared him more than the impending Apocalypse.

"Do you need any help?" Dean turned around to see a middle aged woman smiling up at him. "You look lost, getting something for your girlfriend?" Dean wasn't going to go into the story of his relationship with Jo, and decided that the best course of action was to let the woman assume what was happening.

"Yeah. She lost her mom, and I don't know what she'll need." The woman nodded, leading Dean down the aisle.

"What age is she?"

"She's twenty four. I just don't know what she needs right now."

The woman picked up pink and purple packages and put them into the cart. She added a few bottles of shampoo and conditioner that smelled fruity, unlike the stuff they had been using.

"Give her these, and bring some ice cream with you when you go back. Just give her time and space, let her come to you" Dean nodded, thanking the woman and moving away.

He got to the dessert aisle, and bought boxed cake mixes, and picked up ice cream and pie from their respective areas. Finally he stopped at the clothing section, deciding to stay well away from the rest of the store. He looked at the women's clothes on display. Most of it was brightly coloured and completely impractical for their lifestyles, but he picked up a few pairs of jeans in Jo's size, along with a leather belt and some flannel shirts for her to be comfortable in. He also grabbed some pajamas, as Jo had been living in a pair of Dean's sweats. Finally he got to the register, and loaded the large pile of items onto the conveyor belt, neatly packed them into bags and paid with money he'd been saving for upgrades to the Impala. Jo was worth it though.

It was just hitting midnight when he arrived back into the Singer Auto Yard, and there was a figure on the front porch, arms around knees, holding themselves together. Dean realised that it was Jo there, and left the bags in the truck, going straight to her.

He reached around her, wanting to pull her up and bring her in, when she spoke to him. "Dean...my momma's dead. My momma and daddy are dead. She shouldn't be dead. How do I...how do I stop it hurting so much?" Her voice cracked on the last word, and fresh tears ran down her cheeks. It was the first time she'd spoken or cried since they'd arrived back in Bobby's. Jo pulled the shirt she was wearing – Sam's red plaid shirt – tighter around her, as if it would shield her from the crippling pain in her heart.

"Jo...I don't know what to say."

"How did you get through it, Dean? How did you stop falling apart after your dad died?"

"Because...because I didn't care, Jo. I didn't care. I miss him, yeah, but his life was just about hunting. It had been since I was five, since he learned about demons and about what had really killed Mom. My childhood, Sammy's childhood...no child should deal with that. He made it seem like his life was perfect before Mom died, they had a rocky marriage at best. I just...maybe if we'd had a life where he was around, where I wasn't a father to my baby brother, maybe then I'd feel how you did. But honestly? After I'd processed it, I just felt relief." Dean had never admitted that to anyone. He kept his childhood, what he'd done, what his father had done, locked up. He was never going to admit that. But he could – and would – admit that he wasn't upset when his father had died. He was relieved.

"I just...I know she's gone. I know she's not coming back. But whenever I hear a door open, or a cell phone ring, I think it's her. I think I'm gonna see her again. A...and I know I'm not." Jo leaned into Dean's side, allowing him to wrap his arm around her.

"That's how I felt when Sammy died. I couldn't cope. I let his corpse lie on the bed in the damn hunting shack I'd holed up in for three days before I made that deal. I just...if I'd buried him, it was over. And I got to say goodbye."

"Dean...what were her last words? What did she say to you?" Jo stared up at him, her brown eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Dean didn't know what to say. He didn't want Jo thinking he wanted to get into her pants – even though if the opportunity arose, he would – but he didn't want her not knowing that Ellen had given her blessing.

"She told me I had her permission, but if I messed up she'd haunt me. And to kick Lucifer in the ass – which I really wish I had." Dean gave a tight smile, squeezing Jo that bit tighter.

"S...she approved? Of wh-" Jo started to speak, then cut herself off. Ellen had approved of her and Dean.

"Jo, I'm not gonna rush you. I'm never gonna rush you. I'll be here. You need time, and I'm gonna give it to you." Dean squeezed again, while Jo wrapped her other arm around his waist. She began dozing, and he carried her back to bed, before getting his purchases out of the truck. He roped Sammy into helping him carry the bags in. The groceries went away into the cupboards, except the frozen turkey that was left out. Dean carried the bags with Jo's clothes and toiletries up into her bedroom, except for a pair of jeans and a shirt, that he was going to give to her for Christmas. Around three am, completely exhausted, he collapsed into his bed.

The next day they tried to organise Christmas. Sam and Bobby drove out to a tree lot to try find a tree, while Dean organised the decorations. Jo was moving more than she had since Carthage, and agreed to start peeling potatoes and carrots and making stuffing. The two moved in unison, getting the house ready. By the time Sam and Bobby had arrived back – with a respectable tree, date considering – they had the place almost ready. The foursome decorated the tree with popcorn strings and some spray paint, all the decorations which they had available. The rest of the day passed lazily. Dean did some work on the Impala, Sam did research, Bobby also did research and Jo made herself feel more human.

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold. It was snowing, and they woke naturally, Sam traipsing down the stairs an hour after everyone else. They exchanged gifts – all small ones, but still with meaning – and Jo cried, realising that she hadn't bought the men anything. Her apologies were shot down, and they worked together to make the meal.

After their meal, they all settled down. Bobby and Sam were in a tryptophan coma, having put away half a turkey between them. Dean sat up with Jo, playing Monopoly. She turned out to be a very good player, bankrupting Dean after an hour and a half. They started trading hunting stories, catching up on the year they'd spent apart. Jo thanked him for the stuff he'd bought her, thanked him for thinking of her.

They ended up sitting up talking late into the night, talking about everything and nothing all at once. It was the first time they'd had a chat without it developing into deep topics. The fire had gone out, and Jo pulled the blanket around her further, refusing to stop talking. They finally decided to go to bed when the sun started rising, and they heard Sam going to the bathroom.

"Oh, Dean?" Jo turned and asked, Dean almost crashing into her. She stood on her tiptoes, and pressed her lips to his. His arms encircled her, pulling her closer. Dean's mouth opened, permitting her tongue access. They stood there, kissing, until Bobby rolled himself into the hallway and started slow clapping. They separated, foreheads touching, lips slightly swollen and cheeks flushed, before going upstairs. Jo turned to Dean, pushing her lips chastly to his before separating once more.

"I don't want to go too slowly"