Sorry for the delay in getting this to you guys, I've been pretty busy with work lately! I know, too many excuses. To be honest, I wasn't sure anyone was all that interested in this story until I got some amazing reviews, so please keep 'em coming, they're what's making me keep going with this! Oh, and I know it's slow paced for now, but I didn't think and amnesiac Jo out chasing monsters would be believable! As Jo recovers, the story will pick up pace, I promise!
Jo heard the voices drawing closer to her room, so sat straighter in her bed, trying to look nonchalant as if she hadn't heard the conversation. But her mind was reeling. Trying to make sense of what she'd picked up, she was staring out the window when Dean entered once again, closely followed by Sam. Dean cleared his throat loudly, interrupting her train of thought in an instant. Though she couldn't recall anything about them, she sensed that this was how things were with them – side by side, supporting each other, figuring things out together.
"Hey," he said, making eye contact, but quickly averting his gaze when she returned it. Something intense about her stare seemed to put him on edge.
"Hey," she replied, searching his face for something familiar. How he'd reacted to the thought that she was the victim of some 'cosmic prank' had set her brain to work. He spoke as a protector, as someone who held himself accountable for her safety. Had they been more than friends?
She had to admit that he was attractive. Both brothers were, undeniably, but something more than looks drew her to Dean. With Sam, the earnest eyes and the soft voice portrayed someone who was empathetic, kind-hearted and truthful, and she had no reason to think he wasn't. He seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve for anyone to see. With his brother, there was mystery. What girl could resist someone handsome and mysterious? She sensed the surly demeanour was somewhat of a facade for Dean; that his true self was just as kind and sympathetic as Sam was, but how Dean got things done was to put it to the back of his character and use his tough exterior to his advantage. She guessed, though her ponderings, that she had unlocked another facet of her own personality.
Jo Harvelle liked mysteries. Better than that, she was damn good at them.
"Bobby not coming back?"
"He went to got coffee," Sam replied. "He hasn't had much sleep since you were found."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise he'd been here all that much." she told them. "I'm really okay though. The doc told me they were just keeping me in overnight for observation. They've concluded I was just exhausted and that's why I passed out. I guess that sounds about right."
Both men nodded, Dean turning to Sam for a few seconds which resulted in a sheepish exit by the younger Winchester.
"I forgot, I uh, have to go..out there," were his parting words, before closing the door behind him.
Dean stood with his hands buried in his pockets, watching the door for a few seconds after Sam had gone.
"You can sit down you know, you don't have to pace my room like an armed guard," she joked, getting little or no response from him. Finally, he sat down.
"So, uh, do you wanna make a guess at what's going on with me? 'Cause I'm all out of theories."
No response.
"You know, for a visitor, you're not really aiding my recovery. I mean, no grapes, no Hallmark card. If you were a candy-striper I'd have to have a serious talk with the nurses about you."
A smirk played on the corner of his lip. Jo felt utter achievement.
"Wow, he smiles! And here I was thinking Bobby was the fun one."
Full belly laugh this time. Adorable laughter lines formed at the corner of his eyes and he shook his head in amusement.
Yep, definitely attracted to this one.
"Hey, the day Bobby Singer makes me look serious is game over for me. I'm done, dude," he chuckled, then cleared his throat. "It's really you, Jo, isn't it?"
"Apparently so, I mean I know that's my name. Who knew I was funny, too. I'm learning more all the time."
"Oh yeah? What else have you learned today, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart. The word was unwelcome. Jo was not anyone's 'sweetheart', their 'dollface' or a 'babe'. But somehow, coming from Dean, it wasn't so bad. Still, letting him away with it once could be once too many.
"I've learned that if you call me that name again you won't be able to say much else," she spat, with only a thin veneer of venom. In reality, she was enjoying making fun of him.
"Yeah, see, that's proof enough for me," he said, ruefully. "One thing I've learned in my life is that the right word at the right time can win or lose a battle for ya."
Jo frowned, wondering where he could possibly be going with this. He sensed her confusion and attempted to make things clearer.
"Like, uh..Cristo. Certain Latin combinations I prefer to leave to Sammy, 'no' to a being who wants access to parts of you you don't even wash in the shower... But when you're dealing with a Jo Harvelle who likes to be called 'sweetheart'," he paused, a small chuckle escaping his throat. "Man, then there's something really freaky going on."
Giving a half-smile, half-frown, Jo turned her attention back outside.
"You know I have no idea what you were just telling me, but I'll bet it has something to do with the other thing I learned today."
She turned to her hands resting on her lap, playing with the covers on her bed, wondering whether to say anything at all.
"I learned that I'm not the only person in this room to come back from the dead."
She saw him move uncomfortably in the seat, looking behind him, she guessed hoping for an interruption from outside. None came.
"See, the thing is, I find out I was freakin' dead, and now I'm alive again. I gotta tell ya, I'm knocked for six, I don't know how to feel about anything. But the strange thing is, you guys," she motioned to where they had been standing in her room earlier, "Y'all don't seem too surprised by this. I mean, yeah, you're surprised to see me and all, but not full-on freaked. I gotta ask. Who the hell are you, Dean Winchester?"