Hey everyone! As promised, here is the latest chapter! I'm sorry things are a little slow-moving, but everything will become more fast-paced starting soon, so just stick with me for a tiny bit longer!

Reviews make my day, so PLEASE tell me what you think!

I love you all! Xoxo Zabby

When Dean was happy, truly, genuinely happy, he got this smile. This silly, slightly crooked, toothy, amazing grin illuminated his face and spread to everyone around him. It was like a scene out of a Disney movie; birds would sing and the sun would shine just because Dean was happy.

Sam missed that smile.

When he was a kid, Sam used to try to make Dean smile by dancing around him in various insane ways. The acts usually just annoyed him, but sometimes Dean would get that magical grin and pick Sam up, spinning him around before flinging him down onto whatever dingy motel bed they were staying in.

Sam loved those moments.

Over the years, Dean had perfected his fake smile, the smile that he used when he was pretending everything was okay when the world was really crumbling around him. Many people couldn't tell the difference, but Sam always could.

Dean's fake smile never reached his eyes.

When the brothers had first met the Harvelles, Sam hadn't thought much about Jo. She was pretty and an okay hunter, but she had never made any kind of lasting impression on him. It was obvious, however, that Jo liked Dean; she'd always go out of her way to be near him and seemed to cling onto his every word. Sam almost pitied her; he'd seen that look on many women over the years and Dean had never reciprocated for more than one night. Sam had always assumed that Dean felt the same way about Jo that he did, until one night, when he saw something he hadn't seen in years.

It was one of the first times the Winchesters had visited the Roadhouse, Sam was sitting at the bar with Ash and Ellen, discussing a potential case they had found a few days earlier. While Ellen and Ash argued over the existence of Bigfoot, Sam's attention was caught by Dean and Jo. They were standing by the pool table, totally lost in conversation. Jo tilted her head to the side slightly as she made some witty comeback to one of Dean's crude comments, leaving Sam a clear view of his brother's face. As Jo spoke, the corners of Dean's mouth twisted up into his infamous grin.

Sam felt his jaw drop. The smile totally transformed Dean; all of his worries and fears vanished in those few moments of laughter with Jo. Sam couldn't help but stare; he hadn't seen that smile in years, literally. The boys hadn't even known her for a whole week and Jo had already made Dean happier than he'd been in a long time.

After that, Sam noticed that whenever Dean was around Jo, his smile always reached his eyes. That was his biggest sign, the sign that something was different about this girl, that something was different about his brother and this girl.

No one Sam knew could make Dean truly smile every time they were around him. Sam kept waiting for them to hook up, but, surprisingly, it never happened. Sam was curious, of course, but whenever he would mention Jo, Dean's ears would turn scarlet and he immediately changed the subject.

Dean loved Jo, and Sam knew it.

When Jo stopped talking to Dean after hunting the spirit of H.H. Holmes, Sam could tell Dean was devastated, but he never said anything. Sam pretended not to notice when he saw Dean just staring blankly at his phone with Jo's number dialed in from memory; he pretended not to notice how Dean would mutter her name in his sleep.

After the incident in Duluth, Sam felt insanely guilty that the demon who had possessed him made him nearly hurt Jo, but, even more than that, he hated the lies the demon told. He hated that the demon had told Jo that Dean didn't love her; he'd seen how that had crushed her and he knew that his brother wasn't going to come right out and say how he felt.

Sam watched as Dean continued to sit with his phone, continued to shout her name in his sleep… Sam urged him to call her a couple of times, but Dean completely ignored him, pretending to be oblivious to his feelings for Jo.

The next time they saw Jo after getting War's ring, Sam prayed the two would just settle their differences and tell each other how they felt. Instead, Dean and Jo would take turns staring longingly at each other while the other's back was turned, which drove Sam crazy. He wanted to grab his brother and shake some sense into him, but Dean let Jo walk away, even though Sam knew it killed him inside.

Dean probably thought that by staying away, he was protecting her, but he should know better. Jo could defend herself easily; had Dean forgotten the nearly-broken nose Jo had given him the day they met?

When the Harvelles and Winchesters got together at Bobby's, Sam hoped Dean would tell Jo how he felt once and for all, and he did, sort of. He went and asked her to sleep with him, which was, as Sam knew, all just an act. Sure, Dean wanted to sleep with Jo, but more than anything, Dean wanted to be alone with her, to hold her in his arms and tell her how he felt. Of course, Jo had rejected him. If Dean had just told her he wanted to talk to her in private, Jo probably would've gone, but no.

Dean was an idiot.

And now it was too late; Jo had died never knowing how Dean felt, and Dean would have to live never knowing how Jo felt about him. When Dean stormed off after they burned the picture in Bobby's fireplace, Sam waited up for his brother, knowing how distraught Dean would be when he came back.

You can imagine Sam's surprise when Dean ran back into the house at around two in the morning, grinning like a madman.

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Sam had been sleeping somewhat-peacefully in Bobby's desk chair when Dean came flying back inside. Sam was jolted awake and nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Dean ruffling through the books stacked haphazardly around the house. "Dean? Dean, is that you?" Sam asked groggily, reaching blindly for Bobby's desk lamp. He yanked the chain and the light flickered slightly before shining its dim glow on Dean, who was frantically scanning the bookcase a few feet away.

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes. Dean didn't answer. "Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked, starting to get concerned. "Dean?"

Sam stood up slowly, grabbing a flask of holy water before walking towards his brother. The chances of Dean being possessed were slim, but something was obviously wrong; why would he be digging through Bobby's bookshelf at 2 am?

Sam crept up behind his brother and threw the holy water at the back of his head, finally getting Dean's attention.

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Dean turned around with a start to find Sam standing with a now empty flask of holy water in his hands and a worried look in his eyes. Huh. Dean hadn't even noticed Sam was in the room. Dean rubbed the back of his neck, finding it dripping wet.

"What'd ya do that for?"

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he replied, "Just making sure you weren't possessed."

Dean nodded, staring at his brother for a second before resuming his search. He knew that the book was somewhere around here… He'd only seen it a month or two ago…

"What are you looking for?" Sam asked as he walked closer to his brother. Dean ignored him; he couldn't think about anything until he found the book. He just had to find the book.

"What's wrong?"

If I could just find that damn book…

"Can I help?"

Where the hell is it? I swear I just saw it…

"Dean, will you please talk to me?"

Gotta find it; gotta find it…

"DEAN!" Sam shouted, grabbing Dean's shoulders and turning him away from the bookshelf. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, sounding desperate. "Can you just explain what's going on!?"

Dean couldn't help the grin that spread over his face as he answered his brother. "I saw her, Sam."

"Saw who?"

"I saw Jo."

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"Jo? You saw Jo?" Sam asked. Dean nodded, still beaming. "Dean, Jo's dead," Sam said cautiously, bracing himself for his brother's reaction.

Much to Sam's surprise, Dean just nodded again as he turned back to the bookshelf. "I know."

Sam glanced at the clock; Dean had been gone for nearly three hours. "You've been gone for a while, Dean. I think you fell asleep and dreamed about her or something."

Dean moved away from the bookshelf in front of him and moved to another one across the room, ignoring his brother. Sam followed him. "Dean, I know how you feel. After Jess died, I used to see her everywhere, but it wasn't really her; it was just my imagination. You were just dreaming."

"I wasn't," Dean replied matter-of-factly, pulling a book off the shelf and flipping through it at breakneck speed.

"I know you want her to be back, man, I do too, but Jo's gone for good. You saw that building explode; there's no way any part of her survived it," Sam said, trying to state the facts as gently as he could.

"I never said she survived it. I just said I saw her. She was, like, a ghost or something, but she was immune to salt…" Dean said softly, shoving the book back on the bookshelf and darting to a pile of books behind Bobby's desk.

"Okay, well, then what is she?" Sam asked with a frown, beginning to grow frustrated with his brother.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Dean said as he opened another book, scanning the pages for the information he so desperately wanted to find.

"Dean, I think you're grasping at straws. Jo's gone. I know that's a hard thing to-"

Dean finally lost it. He threw the book down and turned to his brother. "I did see her, Sam!" Before Sam could say anything else, Dean yanked off his coats, revealing the piece of black fabric still tied tightly around his arm.

Sam's eyes widened. "What-?" he started, but Dean cut him off.

"I got cut outside and Jo just appeared out of nowhere. She tied a piece of her shirt around my arm. I have no friggin clue what or where the hell she is she is and it's killing me!" Dean took a deep breath before he continued. "This wouldn't be here if I hadn't really seen her," he said firmly, pointing to his bandaged arm before shrugging back into his coats and returning to his search.

"Dean…" Sam started.

"Just go away, Sam."

Sam shook his head as he turned away, trudging up the stairs to one of Bobby's spare rooms, leaving Dean to finish his search in solitude. He wandered to the bedroom at the end of the hallway and collapsed on the small bed. Sam ran a hand through his hair; he didn't know what to think.

Of course Dean had been dreaming. There was no way any part of Jo Harvelle could've survived the explosion. Sam wanted to believe Dean, really he did, but the logical part of his brain told him that there was no way any part of Jo could've survived the explosion.

But Dean had sounded so sure that he'd seen her… Maybe he had.

Or maybe Dean had just gone crazy.

Either way, Sam was exhausted. He didn't want to think about this right now. Honestly, he didn't want to think about anything right now; he just wanted to go to bed.

So he did.