After Jo's crying fit she'd gotten up calmly and pretended like it didn't happen, receding back into a numb, "act as if nothing is wrong and then nothing will be wrong" sort of denial. "To your motel" Was the only form of direction she gave to the Winchester brothers, both of whom saw no reason to disagree. When Dean, noticing her empty hands and only the small handgun to the waist of her jeans, asked her about the whereabouts of her rifle, she didn't reply, the ends of her lips curling down and her shoulders curving in slightly. Dean figured the weapon was just a sore memory for her, to put it lightly. He had dropped back to pick it up anyway, having a feeling that she'd want it back eventually.
Now, in the Impala, with his gaze not leaving the stone-faced blonde riding a motorcycle in the rear view mirror, Dean was the first to break the silence. "Am I the only one wondering what the hell we do next?" His brother was concentrating on the road, like the safe driver he was, and didn't appear to hear him. "Sammy?" Dean clicked his fingers in front of his brother's eyes. "Hmm? Yeah, sorry, just a little tired. What were you saying?" Dean's gaze returned to the rear view mirror again, but Jo looked like she hadn't moved a muscle. Not that Dean could see much of her face in her blinding headlights, but he saw enough. "I mean, do we call Cas? Get him to do a little angel mojo, but then what? We can't send her to Bobby, we can't send her to the Roadhouse. Where does she go?"
"Have you ever considered, oh, I don't know, what JO wants to do? I mean, I'm no expert, but I doubt she really wants to go and live the apple pie life. Maybe, still just shooting in the dark, she wants to go back to what she was doing before she died, hunting?" The sarcasm in Sam's voice was sickening, and Dean gave him a look that could have peeled paint off walls. "No."
"Why not?"
"You know why not, Sam. It got her killed last time."
"You think you can stop her? That's Jo out there, man. Whether she remembers it or not." Sam finished.
"I know, I just-" Dean struggled, trying to find the words to convey what was spinning around in his head. Images of Carthage, Jo running over to his rescue, and then bleeding out on the floor of some dingy hardware store flooded his vision whilst a soundtracks of her screaming, her flesh tearing, the hounds growling and the building going up bled into one another until Dean could barely hear Sam calling his name from miles away. He shook his head vigorously as Sam's voice got closer and Carthage died away. "I couldn't do it again Sam. I couldn't lose her again. It's just not an option." Was all he could muster up. Sam caught the tone in his voice and fell silent. He knew that Dean and Jo had had chemistry when they first met up, and Dean had hit on her once or twice, but he had no idea that Dean's feelings for the blonde hunter ran that deep. Hell, he was pretty sure his feelings for Lisa hadn't run as deep as it seemed they did for Jo. This was going to be interesting to observe, and Sam couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was a way for Dean to get a sort of happy ending. I mean, Jo was a hunter, so she could hold her own and definitely prove to be more than bait if she tagged along with the brothers, and she matched Dean perfectly, gentle where he was strong, forgiving and restraining when he would take it too far. Maybe this was happiness for Dean. Granted they got her memory back, she hadn't gotten over her crush in her time in heaven, and she wasn't dragged right back there once the angels found her. Sam thought about this for a second; maybe Dean's happy ending wasn't going to be that simple after all.
The silence between the brothers had turned awkward, so Sam reached out and twisted the knob on the radio, playing whatever was already in the Caset player. REO Speedwagon came blaring through the speakers, and Sam's hand went back to the player to turn it down. Dean raised his hand to stop him. "Turn it up. Might spur up some better memories for Dory back there." Sam cocked his head to the side, but obliged.
They took the next turn-off as REO blasted through the speakers. A few streets and songs later they pulled into a rather decent motel for their standards. Jo pulled her Harley up next to the Impala. Pulling her helmet off her head and shaking out her blonde locks, she tilted her head towards the '67 as the brothers began to file out. "REO Speedwagon? Really?" She spoke in a condescending tone. From the passenger's side Dean called over the car as he was getting out. "Damn right REO. Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart." He spoke almost mockingly, and Jo thought maybe he'd had the same conversation with someone else in another time. "He sings it from the hair." She chortled, "there's a difference." She slid off the seat and popped it open, putting her helmet inside before slamming it shut again. She paused, her hands still on the leather of her seat. The words that passed between them felt out of place, like when you uncross your arms and cross them again but can't quite fit them back together in the same way. She discarded the feeling and began to trudge across the nearly full car park, feeling the lethargy settling in on her muscles and mind.
Dean closed the Impala door and, alongside Sam, followed Jo towards the motel lobby. "That's not Jo, man." The oldest brother replied worryingly, shaking his head. Sam just laughed, and they both ran to catch up with Jo.