Thatnk you all so much for reviewing, it SERIOUSLY keeps me going on this one. This is proving harder to write than I thought...
An abnormally warm breeze blew past the door way as Annie rolled Jo out of the hospital. "The weather has been so strange lately." Annie noted absently as they waited for Dean to pull around with the car.
"Really?" Jo asked feigning interest as she picked at a piece of lint on the sweatpants Dean had found her. She was absolutely positive they were his, as was the plain white shirt he gave her. She picked up the front of the shirt with her thumb and pointer finger and brought it up to her nose, she smiled, it still smelled like him.
"Yeah, it's only March and it's already edging on eighty degrees." The nurse complained, bringing Jo back to reality.
Thankfully, the sound of a heavy rumble that could only be the Impala came on next breeze. Jo smiled at the familiar sound. It reminded her of home. Of the Roadhouse, of her mother. Her brows furrowed at her sudden direction of thought. She followed the Impala down the road, trying to keep her breathing steady and her mind in the present. If she didn't she would crumble and Dean didn't need that. Jo needed to be strong for him.
Dean pulled up in front of them, "You ready to go, sweetheart." He called out to her as he got out of the car.
"Sure thing, Dean-o." Jo gently placed her feet on the ground and lifted herself up with her arms. It was a requirement that she be able to walk before she was able to leave. She practically bit a chunk out of her lip every time trying not to scream every time as her muscles stretched.
Dean slipped his arm under hers to take the brunt of her weight, he took the crutches from Annie, and eased Jo over to the car.
"You should wear sweats more often." Dean whispered in her ear as he opened the car door. She could almost here the smirk plastered on his lips. Yup, definitely his. Jo mused.
"Take a picture, it lasts longer." Jo smirked as he gently lowered her into the passenger seat.
Dean threw the crutches in the back seat once she was settled and jogged over to climb into the driver side. "I don't know, not a lot of choices at the bunker. Might not need a picture." He teased throwing the car into drive with a wink, chuckling at Jo's mock groan.
"This is it?" Jo asked indignantly as she stared out the window at the unimposing door of the bunker. "This is the great Men of Letters lair?" It looked like a large entrance to a man-hole. All red brick and cement blocks. There were only four steps up to the door and an old tarnished railing guided the stairs.
"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by it's cover?" Dean chided as he got out of the car. He opened the passenger side and scooped Jo up in his arms.
"I can walk, you know."
"The nurse said you shouldn't over excerpt your self." Dean argued. "Plus there's a bunch of stairs."
"Uh huh." Jo eyed him suspiciously. He kept his eyes straight ahead, which gave Jo more time to examine him. He seemed to always be scowling. Before she knew what she was doing her fingers were smoothing out the skin on his forehead. When Dean gave her a curious look she just shrugged, "Always so serious." She whispered.
Jo could see Dean's Adam's apple rise and fall drastically. He cleared his throat looking away from her and opening the door.
She would never admit it out loud, at least not to him, but Dean was right. The bunker was absolutely amazing. All cherry wood and marble floors. And completely impenetrable. Jo knew her mouth was hanging open in awe but some how she couldn't bring herself to care. She hadn't felt this irrevocably safe since she was a little girl.
"It's pretty sweet, huh?" Dean asked as he carried her through the library.
"Dude," Jo grunted, "This is unbelievable."
"I know." Dean nodded in agreement, "Sometimes I still think it's all a dream."
He carried her out of the beautiful varnished wood library and down a hallway that looked like it belonged in a submarine. It was painted a stark white, an old style fire extinguisher was bolted to the wall along with a map routing out the emergency exits. As far as Jo could see, there were only two.
Dean kicked open a door to the right that was slightly ajar.
There was a full sized bed pushed up against the far left wall and a small dresser with a mirror above it, directly across the room. A small desk was against the wall near the door, books were lined across it against the wall. Dean laid her on the bed and pulled the blankets up around her.
Jo looked to her right at the night stand next to the bed. A vase of yellow wild flowers and a small balloon that had a sick penguin on it that said 'Get Well Soon!' sat in the center of the small table.
"Oh, uh, that was Cas' idea." Dean bowed his head as he ran his hand over the back of his neck.
Jo watched the balloon wave back and forth on the neon colored string. "Where is Cas?"
Dean leaned back to see out the doorway, "He should be around here some where. He might be in the kitchen?" Dean leaned out into the hallway, his hands on either side of the door. "Here he comes." Dean came back into the room and leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Hey there, Jo." Castiel greeted poking his head in the door. "How are you feeling?"
Jo smiled at the once angel, "Like a hell hound tore me apart. How do you feel?"
Castiel let go of a weary sigh as he entered the room. "Well, today I have had a pounding in my temples and my stomach is gaseous."
"Well, that... is just... Well..." Jo stammered, not sure how she should respond. She looked up to Dean for help.
"Yeah, every day we get to hear all his new symptoms." Dean muttered from across the room.
"I'm sorry." Castiel turned on Dean. "I've never experienced any of these symptoms, as you say, so how am I to know if a certain combination is important, or deadly."
"God willing." Dean scoffed.
Castiel's mouth dropped open. "I'm very disappointed, Dean." He shook his head, turning back to Jo. "Are you hungry? I could make you a sandwich? I've just recently learned."
"That'd be great. Thanks Cas." Jo nodded.
Castiel smiled enthusiastically, obviously no one else had trusted him to make their sandwich. "Great! I'll be right back." He said rushing out of the room like a kid on Christmas morning.
"You'll regret that." Dean smirked up at her.
"Eh, I'm not that hungry anyway." Jo shrugged.
Dean pushed off from the desk and took a step toward the bed before he stopped himself. "Are you in pain?"
Jo shook her head slowly, "Nothing more than I can handle. If Cas' angel juice is really gone, were gonna need those pain pills."
Dean chuckled backing up to lean on the desk again. "Already thinking about getting back on the job." He scoffed. "Guess you wouldn't be Jo if you didn't."
Jo's brows creased as she looked up at him, "I told you I'd help you figure this out. And why shouldn't I be thinking about it?" She could feel the familiar anger only he could rile up in her begin to stir in the pit of her stomach.
"You have a fresh start, Jo." Dean practically begged, "You could start over, a new name, a new life." He bowed his head as he continued as if almost an afterthought, "Fall in love, get married, have kids." He cleared his throat catching her eye again, "Die a fat old lady surrounded by her grand kids."
Jo wanted nothing more than to punch him in his face. She could feel a fire ball of rage pitted in the middle of her chest that made it almost painful to breath. "No. I am a hunter." She ground her teeth as she pushed herself into a sitting position, throwing the blanket off her legs. "Something that I thought you knew." She used all her strength to stand and lookrd him straight in the eye. "I will hunt again."
Dean watched her with that scowl of his. "It's not like how it used to be."
"So you've said." She pushed out through clenched teeth. She could feel a warm trickle of blood start to roll down her thigh. She prayed she didn't rip a stitch.
Dean took a step closer to her, the creases in his forehead deepening. "It's dangerous now. This is the big leagues."
Jo lifted her chin and straightened her back, "When hasn't it been?"
Dean shook his head looking down at the floor. "Jesus," He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the small puddle at Jo's feet. "Lay down, it's time to change your bandage." Dean demanded turning to get the first aid kit.
"I can do it myself." Jo spit still standing.
"I don't care if you can or not I'm going to take care of you. Lay down on your own or I swear I will cuff you to the bed!" Dean threatened.
Jo glared at him as she eased herself back on the bed.
"Thank you." He let out through clenched teeth. His eyes flashed from irritation to concern as he watched her try to cover the wince of pain. He took a deep breath calming himself, "I'll be right back." He said softer taking one last look at her before he left the room.
Jo stared at the empty doorway. He's so angry, she thought to herself. Jo laid back on the bed again, her fingers tracing her lips absently as she thought about the day before. 'I know timing's terrible..' He had said before he kissed her. He was just happy you were alive, that's all, just like how he was sad you were dying. Nothing will ever happen with you and him. Just get that through your head. Jo reminded herself. You are just another school girl with a crush, nothing more.
Jo stared up at the ceiling, a smirk creeping on her lips at the giant devil's trap she could see painted in glow-in-the-dark paint.
Dean leaned his hands on the bathroom counter and sighed. You're a fucking dick. Why would you yell at her? He knew he couldn't let anything with Jo get any further than it already had. He couldn't let her get hurt again, and the way that this might end, that's all he could see. Jo in pain. The minute he saw her alive he had vowed she would never feel pain, at least if he could help it. The glare she had given him swam into his mind and he almost chuckled, She's even hotter when she's pissed. His mind flashed through all times she yelled at him or was angry with him and immediately shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, He chastised himself, She deserves better than you. You'll only break her heart.
Dean sighed, looking up to meet his eyes in the mirror. There will never be a right time and a right place. Just man up, get her better, get Sammy better, find fucking Kevin, and do the trials. Alone. Dean nodded once in the mirror, making his decision. He grabbed the first aid kit and went back to Jo's room.
She didn't even acknowledge him as he re-entered the room. "Hey," He called softly, pulling the chair from the desk over to the side of her bed and took a seat.
Jo crossed her arms over her chest, never breaking eye contact with the ceiling.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled, opening the first aid and taking out what he would need.
Jo rolled onto her right side, "Let's just get this over with."
"Alright," Dean muttered. He laid the gauze, tape, and the ointment the nurse had given him on the bed and stood to shut the door, giving Jo some privacy. Jo pushed down the waist of her sweatpants and pulled up her shirt to give him access to her injury. Dean rubbed his hands together, trying to put some warmth in them. Judging by the goose pimples that rose up on her leg, it didn't work. "Sorry," He muttered again.
"It's fine." Jo grit through her teeth.
Dean set his jaw stubbornly. "Fine." He repeated, redressing her wound. When he was done he patted her thigh a little too roughly, "You got the shoulder, right?" Not waiting for a reply he tossed the gauze on the bed next to her and exited the room.
Jo blinked at the spot Dean had once occupied, "What a dick." She sighed, pushing herself up by her arms, trying to find a way to sit up with out using her stomach muscles. So far it seemed impossible.
Panting, she was finally able to lean against the wall and pull down the shoulder of her shirt. She peeled the bandage off and crumpled it in her hand.
Jo could see herself in the mirror across the room. She had a scowl on, almost a mirror image of Dean's. And angry red scratches marred the side of her neck and the top of her shoulder. She sighed again, taking the antibiotic ointment and squeezing a liberal amount into her hands. Jo rubbed it into her scars, hoping that once they heeled they wouldn't be as noticeable. She was never one to care about how she looked, but she certainly didn't want to stick out in the crowd and a large scar would do that. People will notice and people will ask questions and it would just make her job harder to do.
Jo pulled her shirt back over her shoulder, not bothering to redress her bandage, as a small knock came through the metal door. "Jo?" Castiel's voice was muffled with the doors thickness. "Are you decent?"
Jo smiled at the quip on the tip of her tongue, I've never been decent, but she was too tired and still too angry at Dean to be cheeky. "Yeah, it's okay, you can come in." Jo called to Castiel.
The door creaked open as Castiel poked his head in. "I've finished making your sandwich." He smiled like the Cheshire cat, still not entering the room.
"Well come on in, let me see it." Jo smiled back, eager to see what Castiel had done.
His smile instantly faded, "Now, I don't want you to be disappointed, I've only been human for less than a week. I've known how to make sandwiches for two days." He pulled a plate from behind his back as he entered the room. "It's peanut butter and strawberry jelly. Dean says it's called a PB and J."
Jelly and peanut butter was smeared all over the plate, there wasn't really a safe place to put a hand with out it coming back sticky. There were holes in the bread where he had gripped too hard and it ripped and some of the crust was missing. "I'm sure its delicious." Jo said, smiling reassuringly as she placed a hand under the plate, raising it out of Castiel's hand. "You can't really mess up a PB and J."
"That's what Dean said when he taught me the recipe." Castiel frowned. "I still cannot replicate Dean's version though." He stated, watching her, silently urging her to try his creation.
Jo pursed her lips gingerly taking the sandwich in her hands, taking a small bite. No matter what it looks like, a PB and J is a PB and J. You really can't mess it up. "Mm." She smiled up at him, "It's good." Jo said nodding appreciatively, "Thank you."
Castiel beamed down at her, "You're welcome."
A string of coughs echoed through the hallway and then were quickly muffled by the sound of a door closing.
"Is that Sam?" Jo asked craning her neck to see past Castiel, though all she was able to see was wall.
Castiel bowed his head, shuffling his feet, "Yeah, that's him. He's real sick."
"Yeah," Jo nodded slowly, "Dean told me."
Castiel rubbed the back of his neck nervously, "I think Dean blames me." He whispered. "I didn't know that this would happen. Not at first. If I did..." He shook his head, his face transforming into a grimace, "He's right to blame me."
Jo put the sandwich down and reached out for Castiel, "Hey, we'll figure this all out. I promise." Castiel accepted her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
He pursed his lips and nodded, he didn't believe her. "I should let you rest." He shoved his hands in his pockets and backed out of the room.
"Okay," Jo whispered into the empty room. She picked at the haphazard sandwich straining her ears for some sort of sign, something of Sam, something of Dean. But it was dead quiet.
Sam doubled over with the force of his cough.
Dean closed his eyes trying to ignore the sound as he shut Sam's door. He turned to leaned against Sam's desk, crossing his legs at the ankle, pinching the bridge of his nose, he waited for Sam to catch his breath, "What were you saying?"
"Did you ever get a hold of that guy?" Sam repeated himself.
"No," Dean answered crossing his arms over his chest, "The nurse that was there never got his name or a real good look at him. He literally dropped her off at the front door."
"Charming." Sam deadpanned, leaning back to recline against the pillows on his bed.
"At least he didn't leave her on the side of the road." Dean shrugged. "But anyway, so if Jo is in Heaven and all the angels fall, how did she? She's not an angel, she's just a regular good dead person. Does that mean that all the other dead people fell too? And if they are, wouldn't she have landed in Carthage, not fucking Lawrence?" He rambled, his frustration building with every word.
"Those are all really good questions." Sam stated. At Dean's glare, he continued, "I don't know, man. I don't see Bobby anywhere, do you? He would call us as soon as he touched down. He'd be our tell tale sign that all the dead people fell. But then again, it would just be their souls, they need a body to come back to, right?" Sam asked, the more questions they answered the more popped up.
"Yeah, but Jo didn't have a body to come back to. There'd be no way to get her own body back, she'd have to get a vessel." Dean responded, pushing himself up to sit on the desk.
"Didn't Anna get her body back?"
"Yeah, but she was a general or something. She had pull that I don't think Jo could get in three years."
"Does she remember anything?"
"Nope. Not a thing."
"So... how'd it go?" Sam asked sitting up again.
"How'd what go?" Dean asked, his brows furrowing.
"Dean," Sam groaned. "Did you tell her?"
"Seriously? Do you think now is really the time?" Dean argued.
"So you admit its true. You do love her." Sam accused victoriously, pointing a finger at him.
"Jesus Christ," Dean sighed running a hand down his face. "You're unbelievable. You're half dead and that's what you're thinking about? My love life?"
"I got tired of reading the journals, and I have a lot of time on my hands." Sam shrugged, "I just want you to be happy and I think you were an idiot for not trying sooner."
Dean raised a finger at him, "As I recall the night before she died you told me it was 'horrible idea'."
Sam rolled his eyes, "At the time." He groaned, "But that doesn't change the fact that she would be good for you. You should tell her."
"Now's not the time." Dean shook his head.
Sam returned Dean's head shake with one of his own, "When are you gonna get it? With our lives, with what we do, it's never gonna be the right time. But are you really going to let her die a second time with out knowing that you love her?"
Dean jumped down from the desk, "I'm not talking about that with you." He said crossing his arms across his chest. "She has a shot Sammy, a real shot. She could get out of the life, get fucking old, older than Bobby. I'm gonna make sure she lives to be a hundred and the easiest way to do that is to get as far from all this shit as possible."
Sam nodded slowly, a condescending nod. "Jo Harvelle, out of the game?" He asked rhetorically, "Jo Harvelle, not hunting." He shook his head, "No, never. Not her. She loves the job, it's in her blood. She chose to hunt." Sam emphasized, "This didn't just happen to her, like us. She had a shot and made a choice. Jo will never stop hunting." Sam said as bluntly as he could, hopefully some of it would stick in his brothers thick scull.
Dean just pursed his lips and gave a stiff nod, he turned and walked out the door. Sam shaking his head after him.
Dean knew Sam was right. He was always right when it came to Jo, for some strange reason. Dean shut the door behind him and continued down the hall, slowing when he passed Jo's room.
He door was only ajar so Dean had to crane his neck a bit to see her. She was slumped against the wall, the gauze still in her hand, asleep.
Dean pushed the door open slowly, trying his best not to wake her. Her neck was going to hurt when she woke up, and on top of all of her other injuries, Dean couldn't allow that. He slipped into the room careful no to make a sound. He slid his hands underneath her and laid her down. He marveled down at her, brushing a stray piece of blond hair off her forehead. Even in her sleep she was fierce.
He knew he couldn't stop her from hunting. Knew it deep down in his bones, Jo Harvelle would never stop hunting. He couldn't let her get hurt again. He couldn't. If he couldn't stop her from hunting, he would get her as far away from him as possible. Dean felt a sharp stab in his chest at the prospect of Jo being somewhere other than right by his side. Bowing his head, he left the room.
The only shot Dean had of keeping Jo alive was keeping her as far away from him as possible, he decided resolutely as he shut the door silently behind him.
So how'd I do on the second chapter? Please let me know what you think! Reviews help me write faster... ; )