Chapter 4; Comfortably Numb

Time had gone by. In fact, eleven days had gone by. Eleven days... Jo sat in her bed, not eating, sleeping, drinking. She had completely gone on strike from doing anything, from moving. She rarely saw Dean. That wasn't because he didn't try, it was because she refused. She didn't want to get out of bed to do anything. Everyday, Dean would come knocking, in hopes that it would be her who answered the door. Instead, it was Ellen, who just gave him an apologetic smile. She really wished that Jo would come down and see him, to show that him that she still cares and looks upon him with the same adoration and love for him. That she would have that childish sparkle in her eyes, the way her face would light up, her cheeks glowing with a beautiful blush that ever so gently tinted her cheeks with a tinge of pink. The way her smile would grow on her face, the purest smile that Dean had ever seen. How he managed to get a girl like her, he would never know. He was everything opposite to her. Sure, he was attractive... But he was nothing like her. He was the bad boy. A bad boy falling head over heels with a good girl. That wasn't right. He didn't deserve her. But she was desperate not to let go...

Or she was like that, once. However, he barely knew anymore. She didn't answer his calls, reply to his texts... Nothing. Instead, she had completely gave him the cold shoulder, refusing time and time again to talk to him. She made out that she was strong, confident. Everytime Ellen walked in, she would just be lying there or sitting there, doing something. Reading a book, or drawing. Not once,

did she see her daughter cry.

But she did. She did cry. Every damn night, she cried. Screaming into her pillow until her stomach hurt from crying so hard, the sobs wracking through her body. Her eyes would be swollen when she awoke. She would simply sneak through the house to the bathroom and get a cold towel to rest on them to bring down the swelling. She never once wanted to seem weak to her mom, even though she knew that she would accept it and understand. It wasn't everyday that you lost two men in your life; your father, and your lover. It was a hard life, but Ellen understood. She understood the emotional roller coaster that Joanna Beth was yet to face. And God, she wished her all the luck in the world. She knew what it was like to just lie in bed at two in the morning, bawling your eyes out, begging silently for them to come back, praying to whatever God there was, begging that they'd bring them back. That it wouldn't be the end and that there was hope, for them coming back. The nights where you were just so damn numb that the only option was to lie there, wide awake and alone with your thoughts, but you couldn't cry anymore because you'd cried all your tears the night before, wrung them dry of whatever water was left.

Ellen understood.

If there was one person that Jo could open up to and relate to, it'd be her mother. She just didn't have the strength to go there yet. She knew that she was there to support her, but she wasn't ready to face the support and sympathy that her mom had for her. The undying love felt bad enough; as if it was grabbing her throat and strangling her. The love from Dean irritated her. In her eyes, it was if it was patronising now. That he didn't deserve to love her, because he had just torn her apart and ripped her heart out with no remorse, no regrets. That he was just so damn willing to exile himself off to the military and he was fully okay with it.

Well, she wasn't. She was far from okay with it. She wanted nothing more than to just see him smile, get lost in those beautiful emerald eyes. To count the freckles that scattered his cheeks. The way his lips would lift and make such a charming smile. To just listen to his voice and become instantly soothed by it, the way he held her, calming her down and letting her know that everything was going to be okay.

And that is how she fell in love with him all over again.

Dean had had enough. He couldn't take this anymore. This time, when he knocked on their door, and Ellen opened with the same apologetic smile, he gave a small smile in return, but barged his way through. She just chuckled. She had been waiting for so long for him to do this. There were only seventy-two hours left. He was determined to make her smile, to make her happy once more. Even if it was just once, just before he left. He managed to make her smile on that night, why couldn't he do it now? He knocked on her door and waited silently. He made sure not to speak. If he did, it would give him away instantly. He stood there, confident, clutching a bouquet of the typical bunch of colorful flowers that he always brought to her when something went wrong. This time, there was a note attached.

He heard shuffling behind the door, and listened as he heard her scuttle towards the door. The door creaked open and he saw the look on Jo's face. It wasn't a good one. Her eyes widened in shock, but then narrowed quickly, into something of what could look like detest. With that, he felt unsettled, unhappy once again. He stepped into her room, closing the door. He went to hug her, arms outstreched and she just stepped back, like this was the most bizarre thing she had ever seen. That he wasn't human. He frowned at her, and his eyes filled with tears. This was so unlike Jo. Why was she disregarding him like this? It was shattering his heart into mini, dangerous, poisonous shards. Seeing such a horrified look on her face knocked him back. Clearing his throat, he ignored his own emotions and focused on hers. "I bought these for you. There's a note." He thrust them forward towards her. It wasn't the same; he didn't wear the goofy smile he always did. He didn't have that same sparkle in his eyes. They weren't full of life and joy. Instead, both looked at each other, so numb from the heartbreak. Both eyes were just- dull. Containing no hint of emotion. Dean's eyes may have filled with tears, but to her, it didn't mean a thing. He didn't care about her anymore. That's what she thought. She snatched the flowers from his hand, holding them tight. She didn't care about the thorns. Dean was just a thorn in her side anyway. She could handle a few more. She didn't care how hard they pricked her. Blood was probably a good thing right? It means that she was alive.

She moved away from him and went to sit on the bed. She dropped the flowers down beside her, and ripped the note from the ribbon, opening the paper with shaky hands.

Dear Joanna Beth Harvelle,

I just want you to know... I still love you. I still look at you and hope to see your smile, the way your cheeks would raise, the small blush you would wear everytime you saw me. Except, I don't just hope. I pray for it. I beg to see it. I love you, Joanna Beth. And I wouldn't have it any other way. If you break my heart, that's fine. Because I know that I've broken yours now. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve the pain I'm giving you. But still, you tolerate me. So I have one more thing to ask you...

Dean got down on one knee before her. Jo looked at him inquisitively, wondering what the hell he was doing. He wouldn't propose; not now, surely? Was it possible? That he truly loved her that much... Death do us part... Did that apply to them, now that he was going to the military? She laughed to herself.
"Will you marry me, Joanna Beth?" He asked, looking up with hopeful eyes. It's as if the gaze between the two was rejuvenated. Remade. They looked at each other, both with a look of bursting love, one that couldn't be missed. She sat there staring at him in awe for a few moments before she stood up.

"Yes." She choked out, trying to snap herself out of the daze. She laughed and repeated it again and again. She kneeled down and threw herself into his arms. He laughed too and he held her tight against his larger frame, sighing softly and holding her in his arms, relieved that he had managed to fix everything. This time, he hoped that they would be inseperable properly now. Not just physically, but also, in spirit. Mentally, emotionally. He couldn't imagine a life without her, and neither could she without him. Without him, she wouldn't have anything to look forward to in the morning.

She wasn't expecting a ring; not at all. She was surprised he even had the money for one. But he did. He spent his last dollars what he had been saving up for a few years on a stunning engagement ring that he hoped she would accept, and that she would love. He slid the ring onto her slender finger; a snug fit.

People may disagree with what they were doing, but they didn't care. Yes, they were young. Very young. They were nineteen, and hadn't even been together that long, but he knew this is what he wanted, she was who he wanted in life. He loved her so dearly, and begged the Gods not to take her away from him. And she wished the same while he was out there, fighting for his country. She looked at the ring and she cracked a small smile, a laugh filled whimper passing her lips. She looked at him with hopeful eyes, as if now that he had proposed he wouldn't have to leave. But he had a look in his eyes that told her otherwise. He looked at her with sympathy, endless apologies and a look of love that seemed to be more cast back than what it should be. His eyes should have expressed his happiness and his love for her... But they didn't. And that's what sickened her somewhat. That instead of celebrating the fact he had just got engaged to her, instead, he was too busy feeling sorry for her because he was leaving her, yet again. She didn't want that. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her. Jo wanted him to have faith in her, confidence that she would survive through this time, that she was strong and she could heal and build something new, even if he wasn't there...

Was that so much to ask for?

"I love you, Joanna Beth."
"I love you too, Dean."

Their voices were merely whispers to each other, but the words were muttered in such desperation, such need for each other. That this was their last, peaceful, wonderful moment they had with each other. One that they would have to use to get through each day. Dean, out there, clutching to the chain he wore around his neck, knowing that he had a girl at home waiting for him, anxious for his return home. Everytime he would think of her, he would smile. Remembering the vivid picture in his mind of Jo's face, each delicate feature carved out by angels. He just prayed that the picture would stay that way... That it wouldn't ever fade. He wouldn't want it any other way.

And everytime she would glance down at her hand, she would see the ring sparkling back up at her, glimmering in the light. A smile too, would cross her features. Glancing at the ring would help her remember that Dean was strong, determined and he never gave up, no matter what the situation was. Like he said;

"If I wasn't determined, would I of chased you around for so long?"

Reminiscing, she laughed whole-heartedly, laying back against the pillows, remembering his choice of words and how easily he could make her smile, despite her previously crying. It was if her tears were never there, that she wasn't mourning over him, pining, even. Wouldn't that be nice... If she didn't have to do this.

But she did.

The day Dean leaves.

He didn't need to take much; a small bag for some things... Personal belongings. A picture of Jo, family... Things he would be fighting for. The things that were his 'prize' for fighting the war and managing to get home again in one piece. Jo spent the rest of the days and hours with him. They went places, they also stayed home, in the short seventy two hours, sometimes too lazy to do anything and just wanting to enjoy each other's company. One day, they spent the whole day in the bedroom. Ellen was probably sick of it, but she understood. If William came back, she'd be the very same. Refusing to let him go. She laughed and just gave them their space, leaving for the day and coming back.

In the last few hours they had together, she cried, she laughed, she smiled. She held onto him desperately, clinging to him and pleading, begging for him not to leave. That he didn't need to go, that he would be safer at home, repeating the same sentences over and over, like the first night, the night he told her the news. That night was one of the most beautiful dates she had ever experienced with Dean, but then it shortly became one of the worst.

"Come on, Dean! I know you're strong, I know you're determined b-but- you don't have to do this. You don't have to leave. We can find you another job! I don't want you to go. I'll miss you too much." She cried, gripping his hands so tight. She wasn't ready to let go. No one ever is; but it's just something you have to accept and get on with. And she really didn't want to. No one ever did. No one in their right goddamn mind would ask their loved ones to go off to war. No person should have ever made war. Love, not war.

This wasn't meant to happen. Not to her. Not to him, either. They had so many dreams, dreams of going places together, seeing new sights. She wasn't going to do it alone, without him to enjoy it and experience it with her. That was hardly fair.

The minutes were counting down and he had little over ten minutes left. He stood there, cradling her, hushing her gently as she continued to sob violently, her body convulsing as she sobbed into his arms. This time; he wasn't in his usual attire. Not anymore. He was a changed man. He was now officially in the military and he sat there, in his uniform, holding her, praying to God that he would come home. After a few moments, he did something he had never done in front of her; he began to sing. He began to sing 'Hey Jude' to her, in attempts to calm her down and reassure her that everything was going to be okay and that this wasn't the end of it.

The car turned up outside the house and he heard the beeping of the horn. He looked at her and he could see the sheer terror that filled her eyes. She was petrified of letting go. He gave her one, last charming smile. "I'll be back, I promise you." He whispered. He led her to the door with him. He pulled her tight into his arms again, knowing that this was the last time for a long while that he would be able to do that. He inhaled her scent for a while, just trying to remember what she smelt like. He kissed her tenderly, trying to remember what her lips felt like.

However, every attempt seemed useless. He'd just have to keep trying, everyday.

They tried to extend their goodbye as long as they could, but they had had their last goodbye. His hand slowly slipped from hers and he walked to the car and got in. He turned to look out of the window, to see Jo. He smiled at her, that same, charming smile that he always used. He waved to her and blew her kiss. She laughed, but continued to cry, waving in return.

God, she missed him already.

As soon as the door shut behind her, after she waved him off as much as she could, and he was so far into the distance she couldn't even see the silhouette of the car. She slammed the door, and slid down against it, allowing herself a moment of weakness as her legs caved beneath her. She let out a loud cry, her fists hitting off the floor as she cried hysterically, begging for him to be okay, to come back.

"Come back, Dean."