Wait in the Truck

Summary: AH – Dean/Jo. They are best friends growing up in a small town in Texas when Dean gets a call that will change their lives forever.

Trigger Warnings: Abusive relationship

Song Inspiration: Wait in the Truck – HARDY ft. Lainey Wilson

AN: Guys, let me tell you…I heard this song and all I saw was protective Dean. I made some adjustments from the song to suit the story.

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Well, she was bruised and broke from head to toe
With a tear in her blood-stained shirt
She didn't tell the whole truth, but she didn't have to
I knew what had happened to her

I didn't load her down with questions
That girl had been through enough
I just threw it in drive, looked in those eyes
And I asked her where he was

.

Dean cruised down the two-lane road with the music cranked; tapping his thumb on the steering wheel of his work truck as he navigated through the heavy rain back home. It had been a fairly normal day; nothing out of the ordinary, nothing special, but all that was about to change when his phone rang.

He reached blindly on his passenger seat, taking a quick glance at the screen. It was an unknown number; he almost didn't answer it but something inside told him he should. "Hello?"

"Dean?" He knew who it was the second he heard the tremble in her voice and he felt a wave of panic wash over him.

"Jo? What happened?" He heard her sniffle on the other end and he balled his hand into a fist, jaw clenching as he tried to stay calm for her.

He could hear the sound of the music and people in the background. "Can you come get me? Please?" she pleaded in a tiny voice, ignoring his question.

She didn't have to tell him; he already knew. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten this phone call from her, but he was damn sure it was going to be the last. Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Where are you?"

"The Roadhouse. I walked here."

Dean hit the gas, heading towards the town bar. "Stay there. I'm on my way." When he hung up, Dean slammed his fist into his dash in anger.

Jo was one of his closest friends. She grew up in the house down the road and even as a child, Dean made it his duty to protect her. But as they got older, they slowly drifted apart; they had different friend groups, went to different schools, and eventually began living different lives. Dean didn't have much; both of his parents were gone and he'd learned to make it on his own; he enlisted right out of high school, and she was the only one that ever wrote to him. He dated, and so did she, but deep down he harboured feelings for her. Feelings that he pushed aside because he never wanted to ruin the friendship they had. So, he watched as she got sucked into this toxic relationship, hoping one day she'd listen to him and leave. But that didn't mean he stopped caring, and if she called, he came. Always.

It wasn't long before he ripped into the parking lot; the gravel kicking up beneath his tires. He stormed in the front door of the nearly empty bar. The only people there were a couple old regulars drunk in the back and the bartender. He looked to Ash. "Where is she?"

"She locked herself in the restroom." Ash explained regretfully calling after him as he blazed a path across the floor.

He pushed open the door of the woman's restroom, without a second thought, stopping at the only closed stall. "Jo?" he started gently. "It's Dean…come on out, sweetheart."

The latched unlocked, and the door opened for him to see the curtain of her long blonde hair hiding her face as she kept her head down. She immediately buried her face in his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Dean held her close, cradling her head under his chin as he felt her tears wet his shirt. It was different this time…he could feel it in his gut. Whenever they fought, Jo was quick to defend him even through the mascara staining her cheeks, but she was silent. He pulled back, tilting her chin up and a white-hot rage brewed within him. Tucking her hair behind her ear he inspected the deep bruising marring her cheek and the blood caked in the corner of her mouth. Dean had no idea it was this bad. He knew the guy was a piece of shit, but this…

Jo looked up at him ashamed, tears pooling in the coffee-colored depths of her eyes. The look she gave him told him it wasn't the first time, and his heart broke for her as his thumb smudged away the tear that fell. "I don't know what I did to set him off-" she started explaining.

He cradled her face gently in both his hands, dipping his head to catch her eyes. "You did do anything, Jo, okay?" He ran his hands over her bare arms, noticing for the first time the scars and old yellow bruises. "This wasn't the first time…was it?" She looked down, shaking her head no. "Come on, lets get you out of here." Shrugging out of his jacket, Dean draped it over her shoulders. He led her out, nodding to Ash and together they ran through the rain to the truck.

It was a silent ride. She didn't say anything and he didn't ask. He was in a state of an unusual calm as he drove down the weaving road. Jo watched him; the tick in his jaw, the white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel…she'd never seen him this way before.

Jo turned to watch the trees pass by them in a blur through the trickling rain on the glass. She had been cooking dinner, trying to be civil with the monster she lived with when something had set him off. Wyatt stewed over it for hours, the whiskey only fueling his fire.

She was jarred out of her musings when Dean turned off the main road and her heart pounded in her chest as he pulled into the trailer park.

"Dean?" She asked, terrified. He didn't say anything, he just pulled up to the double wide trailer and threw it in park.

.

I don't know if he's an angel
'Cause angels don't do what he did
He was hellbent to find the man behind
All the whiskey scars I hid

I never thought my day of justice
Would come from a judge under a seat
But I knew right then I'd never get hit again
When he said to me

.

"Wait in the truck." His deep voice rumbled, fixing her with a determined stare. He reached under the seat, grabbing his ivory handled colt, and tucked it into his hip holster.

Desperately, Jo reached for him, her eyes wide and full of fear. "No, Dean, wait…"

He brought his hand to her cheek, leaning forward and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. Her eyes fell shut, knowing what he was about to do, and when Jo opened her eyes Dean's Texas sunlit eyes were penetrating into hers. "Just wait in the truck…okay?" She nodded, bottom lip trembling.

He hopped out and climbed the three steps to the front door of her trailer. Jo watched him rip open the screen, banging his fist loudly on the door. She had seen him angry before…but this was different. It was a silent fury that shook her to her core. She waited, her stomach in knots until Dean booted the door down, storming in. She could hear Wyatt yelling at the intrusion and the scuffle and vicious sounds of Dean's fists connecting with his face.

Dean pulled him up by the collar, looking him dead in the eyes. "You feel like a big man, putting your hands on a woman?" he glared. "How do you think she felt?!" he yelled in his face, landing another punch.

Wyatt spit up blood, ripping himself out of Dean's grip. "She deserved it!" He kicked him back into the opposite wall, landing a couple punches of his own. "She deserves everything she gets." He snarled, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. "And so do you." As Dean pushed to his feet, Wyatt reached for the shotgun he had stashed by his lounge chair.

Jo jumped at the sound of the gun shot, holding her breath as she waited to see who would be the one to walk out the door. Her whole body sighed with relief to see Dean – hands bloodied; one holding a gun, a beer from Wyatt's fridge in the other. He met her eyes through the windshield and he nodded at her, letting her know it was done. She let her tears fall, knowing that he had made the ultimate sacrifice for her…without question, without a second thought, without a single regret.

Dean left the gun on the hood and guzzled back half the beer, knowing it would probably be the last he'd have in a while and he sat on the porch and waited.

.

I didn't try to hide my pistol
I didn't even try to run
I just sat on the porch, smoking one of his cigarettes
And waited for the cops to come

.

Jo got out, shaking and wrapped up his flannel jacket, and sat next to him linking her hand in his and resting her head on his shoulder. They could hear the sirens in the distance; someone would have heard the gun shot and called…it wouldn't be long.

The moment was so surreal, as if it was all happening in slow motion. When the flashing lights rolled up on them, Dean finished the beer and fixed her with one last look, as if he was committing her to his memory, and then, for the first time that night, he offered her a soft, reassuring smile.

Jo threw her arms around him, bawling as he hugged her back. "Thank you…" She whispered into his neck.

He gripped her tight. "I love you, Jo. I've always loved you." She squeezed her eyes shut behind falling tears and held on, even as the cops yanked him from the steps. She cried; pleading for them to understand, until they had to carry her away. Jo had to watch as they put Dean in handcuffs, and not once did his gaze falter from hers.

...

The next time she saw him was in court. Tears pooled in her eyes when he met her gaze as he walked in, hands and ankles cuffed. His stubble had grown into a full beard and in his eyes, she saw the same conviction he had that fateful night.

"Please state your name for the record." The Judge started.

She leaned into the microphone on the stand. "Joanna Beth Harvelle."

"Do you solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?"

"I do."

Dean's lawyer approached the bench, levelling her with a compassionate smile. "Joanna, how long have you known the defendant?"

She offered Dean a watery smile. "My whole life basically. We grew up together."

"And how would you describe your relationship with Mr. Winchester?"

"He's my best friend. Dean has always been there for me, protected me; through everything." She swiped at the tear that slipped down her cheek and she saw his face soften.

His lawyer nodded. "Can you tell me about your relationship with the victim?"

Jo wringed her hands anxiously. "Wyatt was my boyfriend. It was…an abusive relationship." She started uneasily. It was the first time she had publicly acknowledged that.

"And how long did that go on for?"

"Years. Since I was nineteen."

"And you've reported him to the police before, yes?"

She nodded. "Many times. They arrested him twice, but it didn't stick."

"And did you ever try to end your relationship with the victim?"

"Yes, of course."

"And what happened the last time you attempted to leave Wyatt?"

Jo swallowed, avoiding Dean's penetrating stare. "I ended up in the hospital." She could never have told him this under normal circumstances.

"Would you say you feared Wyatt Fanning?"

"Definitely."

"Would you say you feared for your life?"

"Yes."

The lawyer nodded sympathetically. "Can you tell me what happened the night of June 16th, 2023?"

Her hands shook, and she took a calming breath. "Wyatt was in a mood. He'd been drinking all day. He was mad about something; I couldn't tell you what. He was like a ticking time bomb. Sometimes, it came out of nowhere." She proceeded to explain in detail the way Wyatt had abused her; first smashing her face into the mirror on the wall, and the back hand that followed. Dean's hands clenched and flexed into fists, the chain between his cuffs pulling taut.

The lawyer produced photos from a folder, showing them to her before presenting them to the jury. "And this is handy work, correct?"

"That's correct." He nodded for her to proceed. "I was scared. I waited until he passed out and then I ran. I didn't have my phone; I don't even think had shoes on. So, I went to the roadhouse and I called Dean to come get me."

"And how did Mr. Winchester react when he saw you that night?"

"He was gentle with me…but I knew he was furious. We drove to my place…and then he told me to wait in the truck."

"Did you know what would happen when Mr. Winchester walked in that door?"

"I knew Wyatt was never going to hurt me again." She deflected the question, and looked right at Dean. "He saved my life that night. He did what the police couldn't. And I'll never forget it."

"Jo…did Wyatt have any weapons in the house?"

She cleared her throat. "Yes. A 12-gauge shotgun in the living room and a pistol in the bedroom."

"And when you heard the gun shot…who did you think fired?"

"Wyatt. It's no secret that he never liked Dean. I think he felt like he was the only thing that could take me from him. He knew how important Dean was to me…how deeply I cared about him." She met his confused eyes again and offered him a sad smile. "It was the one part of me he couldn't have."

"And when it was the defendant that walked out that door, what did you feel?"

"Relief." She answered on a sigh, the weight coming off her shoulders. "I was relieved."

"No further questions, your honor."

.

I don't know if he's an angel
'Cause angels don't do what he did
He was hellbent to find the man behind
All the whiskey scars I hid

I never thought my day of justice
Would come from a judge under a seat
But I knew right then I'd never get hit again
When he said to me

"Wait in the truck"

"Just wait in the truck"

.

The trial went on for months, and when the moment came for the jury to reach its verdict, she prayed that showed him mercy.

"We the jury, have reached the verdict of guilty of voluntary manslaughter in the first degree." The representative announced.

The judge pondered over it for a long moment, before fixing Dean with an intense stare. "Mr. Winchester, you do you consider yourself an honorable man?"

The question took him by surprise. "Yes, sir."

The judge shuffled through some documents on his desk. "And you served your country, correct?"

Dean nodded proudly. "Yes, I did, sir."

"No priors?"

"No, your honor."

"I have a daughter. About Ms. Harvelle's age, and I think if someone laid hands on her the way Mr. Fanning did, I'd be grateful to whoever was brave enough to defend her. Now, not to say this excuses your actions…but I wholeheartedly believe that you are not an evil person, but a person who was protecting someone he loves." The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. "Which is why I'm reducing your conviction from first degree to second degree and sentencing you to ten years in prison with the chance of parole." He hit the gavel and there was a collective sigh in the courtroom.

.

Have mercy on me, Lord
Have mercy on me
Have mercy on me, Lord

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One Year Later:

Jo watched as Dean sat down across from her on the other side of the double paned glass and picked up the phone. "Hey sweetheart." He greeted her as he did every time she visited him, with a grateful smile.

"Hey you…" Her voice caught in her throat. It never got easier seeing him in here.

He looked her over. Her hair was longer than it was the last time she was here, and she seemed happier and healthier than he'd seen in a long time. "You look beautiful as always."

Jo couldn't help the blush the flushed her cheeks. "You're just saying that cause I'm the only pretty face you've seen in a year." She teased him.

"Well I wouldn't say that…my cell mate has fantastic bone structure." His lips split in a grin when he heard her laugh. It had been so long since he'd seen her this carefree. Maybe it was because this nightmare was nearly behind them.

"How've you been?" She asked gently.

"Managing. Keeping to myself mostly. Not much else to do but read and pump iron."

Her eyes travelled down to the muscles stretching the sleeves of his shirt appreciatively. "I can tell." She cleared her throat, averting her eyes when his lips quirked up in a half smirk. "So I hear you're eligible for parole in a few years."

He nodded gratefully. "Mhm, if I'm a good boy, I guess. Just counting down the days."

She smiled. "Me too. Have you thought about where you're gonna stay when you get out?"

He blinked, suddenly remembering that he'd have to start all over again. "Not really. But hey…wouldn't be the first time I've lived out of that truck." He chuckled to himself.

Jo had promised to take care of it for him, so he knew he at least had one thing to come back to. "Well, I've been thinking about it, and I have a solution." He cocked his head curiously. "Move in with me?" She shot him an encouraging smile accompanied with a little shrug.

"Jo…" He swallowed tightly. On the one hand, he loved the idea of waking up and seeing her everyday, but on the other, his feelings would make it complicated. "I don't know if that's such a good idea." He rasped. "Wouldn't want to put you out."

She chuckled. "I think it's the least I could do, all things considered. But that's not why I'm asking." Her eyes held a graceful sincerity that spoke volumes to what she was feeling. "Dean, for the first time in my life, I feel free. Free to be who I am, do what I want…love who I want." Her words made Dean suck in a breath. "Don't you think we owe it to ourselves to give it a chance? Finally?"

He shifted slightly in his seat, leaning closer and resting his elbows on the ledge in front of him. "Jo, what are you telling me right now?"

"I'm saying…I'll wait for you. I mean, I've waited for you since the day you kissed my cheek on the playground all those years ago." She quickly brushed away a happy tear, the nostalgia hitting her hard. "So what's a few more years, right?" She felt like her whole life she'd been waiting for him; all while being trapped with a man she couldn't escape.

There was a glimmer in his eyes, his mouth slightly agape, quirked in an elated grin as he processed her words. "Right." It was the hope he needed; the light at the end of the tunnel.

.

It's been 60 months and she still comes
To see me from time to time
It was worth the price, to see a brighter side
Of the girl I picked up that night

And I might be here forever
It ain't paradise, that's true
But it's whole hell of a lot better
Than the place I sent him to, yeah

.

Five Years Later:

Dean squinted against the sun as the guards let him out of the gates to the parking lot, and there leaning up against his truck was Jo; a glowing vision in the sunlight. Hair blowing gently in the autumn wind, wearing her cowboy boots, jean shorts and a plaid flannel around her waist. His plaid flannel.

She pushed off; a bright grin splitting her cheeks as she ran into his arms, jumping up and wrapping her legs around him. He caught her easily with a grin of his own, looking up at her as she ran her fingers affectionately through his hair. "Welcome home, Dean." She whispered, eyes darting from his eyes down to his lips. They were full and pouting, and she wanted to feel them against hers.

Home. Having her in his arms did feel like home.

.

AN: Well there is my first ever Supernatural story! I'm looking forward to doing a lot more like this, much as I did with 'The Bamon Diaries.' I hope all my current readers enjoyed this, and if I have new SPN readers, Welcome! Can't wait to hear from you 😊 - Vanessa