Chapter 6

Of course he drowned his sorrows in alcohol. He always had, he always would. But like always the alcohol didn't really help. She'd left a hole in his heart he didn't know how to mend, and trying to keep going as if he wasn't hurting so damn much was getting harder and harder with each passing day.

"I need to get away for a few days," he announced one day, grabbing his bag and walking out to the Impala without waiting for Sam or Bobby to say anything.

Of course Sam came after him. "Where are you going, Dean?"

"Just ..." He closed his eyes for a second, balling his hand into a fist on the top of his car. "It's just for a few days, Sam."

"But ..."

"Let him go, Sam."

He'd never been more grateful to Bobby than right in this moment. He wasn't sure if he could explain it any further without breaking. And he didn't want to break, didn't think he could pick up the pieces if he let himself break.

So he needed to get away. Just until her loss wasn't hurting so much any longer.

-/-

Jo looked at Bobby's house, wondering how the welcome would go. Of course they would sprinkle her with holy water first thing, and she had the silver knife already in her hand. But her heart was fluttering in her chest, because she should have called first, but somehow she couldn't. They probably wouldn't have believed it was her anyway.

She almost hadn't made it out of the burning building alive, and had broken down when she was far enough away. Apparently she'd hit her head when she fell unconscious, and had been in a coma for two months before she came back.

Two whole months. They would have thought her dead, and her heart lurched into her throat again when she thought about the pain she caused them without wanting to. There had been nothing she could do about it. She'd been in a coma. But she still wished they would have known.

Taking in a deep breath, she made the first step. Better to get it over with quickly before she was losing her nerves.

-/-

"Dean, there is … I don't even know how to tell you that. But ..." Dean looked up at his little brother, furrowing his brows as he saw the excited expression on Sam's face. He'd been gone for six weeks, and surely his brother hadn't missed him that much. He already had a sarcastic remark on his lips, when Sam's next words sucker-punched him and knocked all the air out of his lungs. "Jo is alive."

It couldn't be. She couldn't be alive. He'd just managed to deal with the pain that was still slicing through his heart whenever he thought of her. And now she wasn't even dead? She was alive?

"Hey, Dean."

His head snapped around as he heard her voice, and he staggered backwards, his back hitting the Impala hard as he stared at her.

"Jo?" he asked, still not believing what he was seeing. His eyes flickered over to Sam and Bobby, and both nodded.

"She is clean," Sam told him before he could ask. "We checked everything."

"It's really you?"

She was walking towards him now, and he still didn't believe it, but then she lifted her hand and touched him, and he knew she was real, and all he could do was pull her into his arms, hugging her really, really tight.

-/-

She knew he would be out here. He always went to his car when he was dealing with something. And her coming back from the dead had to have thrown him. That was for sure.

She found him leaning against the hood of the Impala, bottle of scotch in hand, and she joined him, leaning beside him. They didn't say anything for quite some time, and the silence was pressing down on her. She needed to tell him so much, but most of all … she needed to touch him. She just needed him. And to hell with all the reasons she had kept repeating over and over in her head. That was before she almost died.

"Look … about what you said, or wanted to say before … I ..." she trailed off, not sure how to tell him what she needed to get off her chest. But then she looked at him, and the words just came out. "I don't want to have any regrets, Dean. And not spending at least one night with you … that would be a regret."

"Don't say that, Jo. Just … please don't."

He pushed away from the car, walking a few feet away, the empty bottle slipping out of his hand and landing with a loud thump on the ground without breaking.

"So you don't want me anymore? Is that it?" she asked, balling her hands into fists beside his body. God, she was a fool for even telling him this. Such a goddamn fool. "Fine. I'm not gonna force myself on you."

"God damn it, Jo." She couldn't even blink before he was back, gripping her arms and lifting her up, sitting her down on the hood, and stepping between her legs, his face only inches away from hers as he barked, "You were dead. You hear me … dead. I mourned you, and I … God, you being dead … it fucking almost broke me. I can't … I just can't. I can't."

But he was still standing between her legs, his fingers digging into her thighs, and then he let out another curse and pulled her forward. "God, Jo. I fucking need you."

His mouth crashed down on hers, and the next minute was more of a blur. But somehow they managed to get the clothes out of the way - her jeans was hanging from one ankle, his was pooled around his - and she felt the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance, ready to push in but then he suddenly stopped.

"Jo, I … I don't have a condom with me," he rasped, his hot breath brushing over her skin as he tried to keep a hold on his control.

"We don't need one," she replied, wrapping her legs around his waist. "It's safe."

He only hesitated for a brief moment, and she let out a loud gasp when he pushed into her, burying himself completely in her in one thrust. It was so not comfortable on the hood of the car, and she felt as if she would slip down any moment, but she couldn't care less right about now. Dean was pounding into her, taking her with deep and hard thrusts, and it was wonderful and amazing, and she completely forgot where they were as he kissed her again, snapping his hips against her just right so that with each plunge he also hit her clit, and she spiraled out of control, sinking her teeth into his shirt when she came around him, feeling him stiffen only moments later as he spurted his release into her.

She was staring up at the night sky, trying to get her bearings when he began shifting atop of her, his raspy voice reaching her ears, "This was ..."

"If you say this was a mistake, Dean Winchester, I'm gonna slap you so hard that you'll wish you've never been born."

"You would?" he replied, pulling back so that he could look down at her, and the tenseness went out of her body as she saw his grin. His arms came around her waist and he lifted her off the hood and into his arms without slipping out of her, and the intimacy of the moment stole her breath away as he buried his face into her neck, whispering against her skin, "We are hunters, Jo. And I can't … I can't let this go any further, and then lose you. You have to understand. I just can't."

The thing was … she did understand him. But she still wanted more. She wanted everything. But she also knew she couldn't push him, knew she had to let him go.

"Can we at least have this night?" she whispered, tightening her walls around him and making him jerk.

"But only this night," he replied, carrying her around the car, slipping out of her so that he could open the door and push her on the backseat.

She watched him as he got rid of his clothes completely, her body already aching for him again, and she fumbled with her own clothes until she was as naked as he. She locked eyes with him then, a few silent seconds passed where they only stared at each other, before he joined her on the backseat without uttering a word, closing the door behind him.

She didn't care that the backseat was almost as uncomfortable as the hood, because she wouldn't take the chance that he'd change his mind on the way to the house. If they only had this one night she would make the most of it.