Jo woke up on her back, in a sweat, the blanket she had fallen asleep clinging to long discarded at her feet. She covered her mouth to muffle her uncontrollable sobbing, not wanting to wake either of the brothers, but especially Dean. She didn't know if it had been the same before she died, but she constantly felt like she had something to prove to the man, she didn't feel good enough, strong enough. Crying wasn't strong, not to Jo. She turned on her side in another attempt to control the near wailing. That's when she heard movement behind her. She felt his arms snake around her waist, and recognised him instantly. She froze at first, and Dean put his chin over her shoulder, and Jo burst into tears once more, shaking uncontrollably. She turned to face him, and brown eyes met green. Stop crying, stop crying. She spat internally, and yet the tears kept coming. They looked into each other for god knows how long, reading each other, knowing each other, before their lips met. This kiss was tender, as Jo tried to hold onto what was real, trying to push all thoughts of Carthage out of her head, getting lost in Dean, and only Dean. His rough, calloused hands slid under her shirt and skated gently up and down her back. Jo wrapped her arms around his neck and her hands seemed to get lost in his short hair. Eventually they broke apart when Jo's sobs became too much to keep going, and she simply lay her head against his chest, still shaking with grief. Dean only cling to her tighter, whispering for her to sleep. And eventually she did, in his warm arms she slept for the few hours left until dawn.