Chapter 5

"Jo?" he asked, sitting up.

She glared back at him, all beauty and anger.

"What the hell did you do, Dean? Did you sell your soul again?"

Hearing all the rage in her voice shouldn't have made him so happy.

"No," he whispered huskily. "I didn't sell anything. I just… It's so good to see you, Jo."

She smiled a little.

"It's good to see you too."

Thirty hours. He had thirty hours, but it wouldn't feel like it. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance for him to say and do the things he never did. He got up and strode to her as quickly as he could without actually running.

"Dean-"

He cut off her words with the kiss he should have given her years ago. Her hands were outstretched in surprise for a moment before she melted into him. Unsteady hands moved through her golden hair, pulling her closer. Reluctantly, he pulled away.

"Wha…" she trailed off before clearing her throat. "What was that?"

Resting his head lightly against hers, he ran his left hand across her cheek.

"Something I should have done years ago."

She closed her eyes and held his face gently.

"Dean, I shouldn't even be here."

"Shhh. That doesn't matter right now. There isn't much time."

"Of course it matters. You don't get something for nothing, you know better than that. There had to be fine print."

"There isn't."

She stepped back from him, her face a mixture of anger and sadness.

"Dean, there's always fine print."

"I don't care."

"How long am I supposed to be here?"

He put his hands in his pockets. When had he dressed?

"Thirty hell-hours."

She put her hands on her hips. He tried not to smile.

"Hell hours?"

"They move faster than normal."

He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was more of a countdown timer than a clock.

"We've got twenty-eight left."

Slowly, her demeanor changed. Now she was less full of anger, more full of… something else.

"If we've only got twenty-eight hours to live, how about we make them worth living?"

##

Ereshkigal stood over the sleeping pups again. All she needed now was for the little one to make his choice. Once he did that, he belonged to her. She could judge him as she desired and do what she pleased with him. He had only to make the decision and it would be over. His brother wouldn't be far behind him. Carefully looking over the second brother, she observed as her foul breath took its hold. It needed to be a slow death or the little dog would learn the truth too soon. Pulling back from the sleeping forms, she turned to Ishtar, who stared with blatant lust.

"Get. Out." the elder growled.

Just beneath the skin, her wings twitched. If she wasn't careful, her true form would emerge.

"Oh come on, Eris. You can't have all the fun."

"This isn't about fun, Ishtar. This is about keeping us safe. Now leave before you wake them."

With emerald eyes rolling, the blonde pushed passed her older sister to stare at the dying man. Long fingers ran through his long brown hair. The sexual tension in the room was almost visible.

"Tara…" Eris warned, wings pushing out from under the illusion.

"Oh, please? It would a much more fun way for him to die. This is agony."

"Agony is what he deserves for all that he's done. Leave him be. If you rush it-"

Suddenly, he began gasping for air. No! It was too soon! Releasing any hold she'd had on the illusion of flesh, she flew to the younger Winchester's side. As she extended her hand, she saw her skin darkening.

"Damn fool!" she yelled.

She could not undo Ishtar's power. Turning to her little sister slowly, she felt fire boil up in her gut. She always fought to keep it restrained around Ishtar. But right now, she wanted to feel the flames run through her blood.

"What have you done," she hissed.

Ishtar had changed too. Her own feathered wings had unfurled and stretched out behind her. The tanned skin had taken on a pale green hue, her veins turning from red to gold. The two sisters were a study in contrasts. Ishtar became the embodiment of spring, all green fertility and lust. Ereshkigal looked like the pit in which she lived, the color of dried blood. Her eyes, normally a pleasant gray, darkened until they turned black.

"Get out before I make myself an only child!" she yelled, her voice deep with an inhuman tone.

Ishtar's green glittering eyes filled with tears and she tucked her wings back.

"I was only trying to help!" she sneered before disappearing.

Turning back to the Winchesters, she frantically tried to think of a way to undo what Ishtar had accidentally done. Something began to tickle her mind, just on the fringe. What was that?

##

"Dean," she said quietly, resting against his chest. "What am I doing here?"

A lump came to his throat.

"We talked about this already."

"No. What am I doing here? Answer me honestly."

The lump got larger and more painful.

"Because I love you, Jo."

Her eyes squeezed shut, tears leaking out.

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be. I died. It's over."

He shook his head.

"But it doesn't have to be. I can get you back."

She sat up.

"At what cost? What does this thing want in return?"

"Nothing."

Jo's eyes narrowed.

"No way. Everything wants something. There's no way she lets you walk away from this. She's killed for a lot less."

"Then I'll quit. She'll have no reason to send you back if I don't hunt her."

"Dean…" she said in a scolding tone.

He knew what he was saying, and he knew he shouldn't be saying it. But being here with her in his arms, the way it should have been… He didn't care. Consequences be damned.

"I'd quit for you, Jo. I was a selfish coward and couldn't tell you before you… left. We could hide out, off the grid. Nothing would ever find us."

"Something always finds us," she said in a flat tone. "But what about your brother? You'd never just abandon Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Sam never wanted this life. He's only here because I am. If I get out, he can go have a family. Have a hundred little Sam's running around a big house."

He leaned his head back down on the pillow.

"What about you?" she asked quietly. "You want little Dean's running around?"

"No," he answered too fast, tone sharp with bitterness.

He felt her sigh.

"Oh."

"Jo…" he said, trying to explain something he didn't really understand.

"No, no. It's alright. I understand. The life we lead doesn't really lend itself to having kids."

He sighed deeply and sat up so that she looked at him.

"It isn't that I don't want kids, Jo. Or even that I don't like them. I love kids. But. I'm not father material. I don't wanna take the chance of becoming… I won't. I can't do that to them. I don't want them to grow up the way I did."

"You are not John."

He looked away from her. She didn't understand. He cared the same burden his dad had. They were the same. Soldiers. She grabbed his face and made him look into her eyes.

"You're. Not. Him."

Gently, he ran hand through her silky hair.

"I don't want you to go."

A sad smile graced her lips as her eyes went glassy.

"I know. But I can't stay. You know that. If you make this deal and bring me back, I'll kill you myself."

Letting himself slide down, she curled into him. How was he supposed to let her go after this? When she'd died… it had almost killed him. And now, after all this. After telling her how long he'd loved her… He was just supposed to be okay with her dying again? Cause that's what was going to happen. She was going to die all over again, because of him.

"I don't know if I can promise you that, Jo."

Maybe it was time to make his choice.

"How much time do I have left until I go back?"

He glanced over at the clock.

"We've got just under five hours left."

"Well then," she said as she sat up. "We'd better make the most of it."

That was it. That gleam in her eye. The spark in her voice. Those were the things that had made him fall so hard.

"Jo," he began.

"Shut up," she said, kissing him deeply