Chapter 3: In for a surprise.

Dean and Jo had been together for about six months now. They acted as every young, fresh couple did. Deeply in love. Or that's what they thought, anyway. Every single gaze was full of love, adoration for one another. Each smile so incredibly enthusiastic. Every time their lips touched, it was like a drug, an addiction. They couldn't get enough of each other. But their love- it was pure, youthful and full of innocence. They rarely argued, but when they did, they could never stay angry at each other. They were generally mad at each other for about ten minutes before they were calling each other up, or going to each other's house. Whenever it was Dean apologising, he would turn up at her door with a goofy smile, and a small, cheap bouquet of colorful flowers. She would just smile and laugh, kiss his cheek and tell him that she forgave him. She would accept the flowers and invite him in. It always ended up with him staying the night. She didn't mind though.

This time, Dean had promised her an incredibly romantic night. It was definitely a night full of romance. They were both dressed up in formal attire. Ellen was proud of her and especially of him. She smiled at the two and couldn't help but take a picture. It was one that she could see herself putting on the wall of the corridor.
"Ready?" He asked her, with a small smile playing on his lips. She took the rose that he held delicately between his fingers and held it in her hands, rolling it between her fingers. She tiptoed and gave him a small peck on the cheek. "I'm ready." With that, he smiled back at Ellen, and led her out to the car, helping her inside. While he was incredibly excited about the evening, he was also dreading how it was going to end;

Giving her something beautiful, just to take it away again in one heart wrenching sentence.

For now, he would just make the best of the moment they had in front of them, and not worry about how broken she was going to be in the next couple of hours. Goddamn, he hated himself for this. But he had no choice. This was something he had to do. This is what he was good for- always playing with the soldier toys, the action men... This was where Dean was destined to be. However, he was so torn apart. He was meant to be in two places. He was meant to be with Jo, holding her in his arms, comforting her in the tough times. And then he was meant to be a fighter.

They had dinner, and they laughed, they smiled. He held her hands, his calloused fingers brushing over her silky smooth skin. He was going to miss that. He was going to miss her touch.
Don't cry. Not now. Not ever. Be strong. Show her that you care, that there isn't a single thing wrong. That you're happy right now. That you're not going to be going away in just two weeks...

Fourteen days.

She sat there, looking into the emerald green pools of his eyes, all the different flecks and tones. There were so many...So many to get lost in. Her eyes flickered as she watched his eyelids open and close, the way his pupils constricted and widened once again. How the black holes absorbed the colour, and then would push it back out again, revealing it to her. So many colours that were incredibly impossible to ever memorise.

Despite her eyes being a muddy brown, and his an emerald green, she still thought that her eyes were so beautiful; that they were so special, as it just made her face look so innocent and pure. She could be a symbol of peace. A dove. They sat there sipping champagne, laughing. Then he decided to make a toast to her.

"To you, Joanna Beth. To the most wonderful, purest, caring, considerate and cheerful woman I've ever met. You make the world go round. You're so incredibly special to me, and I don't want you to ever forget that. To you, Jo." He smiled, looking over her features, and how she sat there, embarassed, happy, bewildered. Just a mix of emotions as she had to gather her thoughts. It was only a little speech, but to her, it was powerful to her, it was strong and showed the link of their relationship and how they were held to each other with strong chains.

After a few moments, she accepted the toast, and they clinked their glasses, sipping the champagne and revelling in the unique tastes of sparkling fruit, and how different grapes taste when it's alcoholic.

After their dinner, and Dean paying the extortionate price for something that was beautiful, and just to enjoy a good meal in the company of his beloved. He wouldn't complain though. He would understand that that was the price to pay for good things. He would cherish every good moment he got, and realised that it was about to get a whole lot worse, in the next fourteen days.

Fourteen days.

Some people may say that fourteen days is quite a bit of time, that that gives them enough time to go out and enjoy the world. But it wasn't, really. He could close his eyes and open them and the next minute he knew, the deadline was there, and he was going to have to man the hell up and face it.
He was terrified. But he knew this was what he had to do. He was destined for this job.

He decided that they should take a walk, and he led her through a park, walking along the paths with her, holding her hand tight. He watched her shiver and he halted to take off her jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. He would make her warmer, even if it meant that he became colder. Anything for her. She was his world. The most important thing...
He pulled her close to his body, his hand rubbing over her smooth shoulder. They didn't talk much, and just took in the scenery, the way the trees rustled gently to the cold autumn air.

Next, he heard a loud squeal, and then a loud clap. Looking up, there was a burst of colour in the air.

Fireworks.
Jo looked up, mesmerised by the colours, how bright they were. They flashed fast, and faded away. Just like lightning. Despite how loud they were, she loved them. She always had. Ever since she was a kid. She was constantly begging to be taken to firework displays, whenever she had the chance. Even if it meant standing out in the cold for hours, standing around as she waited for the fireworks to shoot up in the air and explode so beautifully into an array of color that the crowd wouldn't know, that they would just have to wait and see. A surprise with each firework.

"Aren't they beautiful, Dean? Aren't they?" She asked, just like a child. He smiled and nodded.
"Yeah. Beautiful... Just like you." He told her, nudging her playfully. She glanced to him and smiled. He plastered on a smile for her sake. He knew that he had to. That he couldn't show any hint of sadness. If he did, she would instantly catch on that something was wrong.

"Come on, let's go sit down." He told her, nudging her along gently. She stood for a few moments more, staring up at the sky in anticipation, wanting more bursts of colour. But they didn't come. She pouted slightly. No matter the occasion, she was constantly returning to her childish roots and mannerisms. Dean had picked up on every one of them, and sometimes he would sit there and tease her about them, just because it was amusing and he loved getting a reaction out of her.

They sat down on the cold wooden bench and he pulled her close into his arms, her head rested on his chest. They had a beautiful view of the bright green grass ahead of them, scattered trees and between the branches they could see the glistening waters of the river. It was a picture perfect scene, but where they were sat wasn't for such a good occasion. In fact, it was the complete opposite. This is where proposals should happen. Not this kind of news.

He buried his nose in her hair, smelling the hibiscus and lavender shampoo she had used. It wasn't overly powerful, but it was strong enough that he could still smell it. It was a very feminine scent, but suited Joanna Beth extremely well. Her skin smelt like coconut and vanilla. Just like biscuits. She was sweet smelling, which fit her well considering she was such a sweet, beautiful and loving girl. God, he didn't want to leave her. Not like this. She may have been strong, and able to look after herself, but he felt wrong leaving her on her own. She shouldn't have to be on her own, just because of his stupid goddamn choices... He was screwing this up. He could turn back now, just drop out.

"Jo... Baby. I've got to tell you somethin'. Somethin' you're not gonna like. No, I'm not cheating on you. I promise you that." He told her, turning on the bench to get a clear look at her. Her eyes were full of fear, but her face was a clear expression of naivete. He sighed quietly and his heart lurched against his ribcage. This is what he was leaving behind. He was ruining this girl's life.

"I'm going to the army."

He didn't say anything more after that. They both just sat there in silence. Jo didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to handle the information that he just fed her. Her brain was juggling it, trying to give her an appropriate response, a response that he could work with. She continued to look at him, her eyes trying to read off something that told her that he was lying. But she found nothing- he wasn't lying. God, he wasn't lying. This was real.

As soon as that clicked in her brain, something snapped and she let out a small whimper. She didn't want to believe it. This wasn't true. He wasn't leaving her. She shook her head, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sounds of her heart tearing apart. The quiet cries.

"No; don't lie to me, Dean. Not now... Don't leave me now." She begged him, taking his hands and gripping them tightly, pleading for a different answer. She refused to believe it. Even him telling her that he had slept with someone accidentally would have been better than this information. Her heart was shattered, just by using five words. Five words that shouldn't exist, that shouldn't ever have to be heard by anyone. He didn't say anything to her. He couldn't. Because if he did, he would cry too. He didn't want her to see that. Dean wanted to show that he was still confident, full of hope, comedy, and love for her. That he wouldn't cry over this because this is what he wanted. He wanted to go to the army and fight. Fight for his country. That's what he was destined to do.

She held onto his shirt, clutching desperately. She continued to sob hard against his chest, tears splashing onto his shirt and seeping through, some dripping down and splattering onto his jeans. He didn't mind, though. She had every reason to cry. He didn't. He was putting himself through this. Therefore, he wasn't allowed to cry. This is why he refused to cry in front of her. Because he put himself in this situation, he called them, and asked to join the army. It wasn't like he was forced into it... If only that was the situation.

Jo was so confused. Why would anyone want to do that? Hold a gun and shoot people down, killing people who didn't deserve to die. Parents, children, cousins, uncles... The list was endless. They were families out there, and they were dying. And then there was the risk that Dean could die out there... Dean... could die. With that thought, she ripped herself from his arms and ran over to a trash can, her extortionately priced dinner exiling from her body upon hearing such life-ruining news. She wiped her mouth and looked back at Dean. She sobbed and she almost looked apologetic. Like she was the one doing this to him. That she was sending him off to the army, in that hot, itchy uniform that no man should have to belong in.

"How long, Dean? How long do you have left?" She managed to ask, her throat scratchy and her voice a quiet croak. She was embarrassed because of that, but she didn't really have time to care when any day now, her boyfriend was going to be deported to Afghanistan. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, to gather the words and have the strength to pull himself together, make sure that he didn't split apart in front of her. He took a breath, and swallowed thickly. His jaw set. She looked at him, hopeful. Hoping that it wouldn't be soon. That they'd have months to live a free life, to give her time to forget about the news, or at least adjust to it. That's really what she needed. Sadly- that's not what she was going to get.

Fourteen days.

"Two weeks." He muttered, his voice cracking. He looked at her, but as soon as he saw her gaze meet his, they flickered away again, staring into the distance. The fireworks started again and they shot up into the air. Just moments ago, they were watching them, laughing and smiling. Now, everytime they see those bright bursts of color, it will just remind them of this pain, the pain of being torn apart. That this was the last proper date they may ever go on...

"Don't go! You'll die out there." She cried, stumbling forward to grasp his hand. She had only ever had his best interests at heart. All the time. Jo had only ever wanted the best for him. For him not to be taken away from her. They were inseperable. Even Ellen and John had said that. That they were never going to be apart...

"It's dangerous. I- I might not see you again." She whispered, before her voice broke again, and that small, cracked, cry fell past her lips without a hint of warning, or permission. She couldn't stop it; she couldn't stop the tears that fell down her cheeks. She felt guilty for crying, like she didn't have a right to cry. Just the way he felt. However, she felt as if she was spoilt in this relationship. That she had everything, that everything was perfect. Therefore, it doesn't warrant her a reason to cry, despite the fact he was being exiled out to Afghanistan. That was every reason to cry.

"I'll do everything I can to come back to you. Jo, y'know me. I don't give up easily. That's why I chased you around for ages." He teased. Sure, it was an inappropriate time to joke, but he had to. He couldn't stand to see her cry over him. Not like this. He only wanted to make her smile, to make her happy, proud of him. Not broken hearted... Not like this. She gave a small smile, laughing quietly, which was strangled by a sob. She couldn't help it. She couldn't just stand away from him like this. She whimpered, looked up at him with desperation and sadness in her eyes and he knew instantly. He paced over to her and pulled her tight into his arms. Her small, fragile hands clutched desperately at his shirt, his fingers tangled in her hair as he held her close, just wanting to know that doing this, she'd be safe. He'd get paid for this; bring home money to her, to look after her and offer her a life that was sustainable with the money he made from the army. He could offer her so much, with the money he was going to make. A house... They could settle down together. Maybe after a few years work in the military, he would be able to quit, and then they could start their life.

A perfect life.

"Tell me that you're not becoming a soldier. T-that you're gonna do something else. Drive them around or somethin'... Please!" She begged, shaking him by his collar, her knuckles white from the tight grip she had on his shirt, desperate not to let him go. She knew, though. She knew that she would have to say goodbye soon.

Three hundred and thirty six hours...

And he'd be gone.