So, here we are with the next installment. I hope you guys like it. This part and the previous one were supposed to be one single chapter, but it got too long and I decided to split it. That means you get two slightly smaller slices of cake instead of a very big one. Enjoy!
For the first time in a long time, Jo sleeps through the night without waking once. She hasn't had a nightmare since leaving Sioux Falls a few days before. She'd only had a few strange dreams on the previous nights, but nothing compared to those she'd had at the cabin. This time, she can't even remember if she'd dreamt anything at all. She feels well rested, though, which is quite a relief, considering she'd spent the past days chasing around a bunch of vampires.
The hunt had been grueling. The nest had been big and it'd taken their team a lot more time and effort to catch the monsters unaware. Brutus had ended up being the ace up their sleeve, the magical element of surprize. The dog had been instrumental in their success. Without him, a lot of the vamps would have managed to get away and their small group would've become the hunted, instead of the other way around. He'd run back and forth inside the nest's hideout, confusing the monsters and corralling them when they'd tried to escape. They'd been easy pickings after that. Jo'd shot the leader and four other bigger vamps with the Colt, and the three men had—with Brutus' help—dispatched the rest.
Shaking off the thoughts of the previous few days, Jo picks up her phone and calls Dean as she'd promised. He answers on the second ring, like he'd been waiting for her call. He probably had.
"That was quick," she says.
"Had the phone close to me," is his reply. "Been up for a while, too. How'd you sleep?"
"Like a rock. I didn't even dream about anything. You?"
"Rough night. Had a nightmare, a pretty nasty one, and couldn't go back to bed."
Now that she listens to his voice more carefully—after he tells her that—she realizes that he sounds tired. The silence that settles after his statement also worries Jo. He isn't in the head-space to elaborate. She doesn't push him for information, though. It's not like they share every single detail of their night terrors. Still, when they talk about them, they at least divulge the bare bones. Jo thinks that it must have been something bad enough to spook him beyond belief and he's not ready to share yet. It wouldn't be the first time. There had been several instances when he hadn't been able to talk about it straight away. So she decides to let him process this at his own pace and changes the subject.
"You do know you're awesome, right?" Jo says, breaking the tense silence that'd settled.
"How so?"
"You fixed our magic gun. I took out five vamps with it. Works like a charm."
"Yeah, I am awesome," he says, on the tail end of a short laugh. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without your great-grandpa Rudolph's help, though."
"You'd have figured it out eventually. It would just have taken you longer."
"Good to hear you have faith in my gun fixing skills." There's a short pause, followed by the sound of paper rustling. "By the way, what was it like hunting with Sam and our friends?"
"I like Jesse and Cesar," Jo says. "They're very good hunters and we worked well together. And they're a sweet couple too."
"Yeah, they're a good match. I think we should keep in touch with them, help each other out more often."
"We could start building that network of hunters Sam's always talked about. So far, we have Jody and her girls, and Donna, Alan and Jim. Why not add Jesse and Cesar to the list?"
"Jody and Donna have also made friends of their own." Dean's voice starts sounding more excited with each word. "I'm sure the others also have contacts. Eileen too. Once that database is finished, we can look into other ways of collaborating. Maybe even give copies of the key to the bunker to a few more close friends."
"You've given this a lot of thought."
"Well, Sam wanted to do this a long time ago. He even had something similar going on with the Apocalypse World refugees, but that went sideways."
"Yeah, he told me about it." Jo sighs and rubs at her face. "I'm glad he's open-minded in that regard. I remember my mom used to grumble about stubborn hunters who wouldn't accept any kind of help and would end up dead as a consequence."
"Sam's changed in some ways since that day in Carthage."
"He got wiser too, I've noticed. He's more experienced and even more cautious, thinks twice before he acts. I like the new and improved Sam."
"Liking your hunting partner is important."
"All that's left now," she goes on, "is for me to go on a hunt with you. It's never been just the two of us. I wonder how that would work out."
"Whoa, cool your jets there," he says. Jo detects some amusement in his voice. "It'll still be a while longer until I'm ready to chop off vamp heads."
"You're right. And digging up graves is also out of the question. Guess you're stuck doing research duty for now."
"Never thought there'd come a day when I'd be glad to be able to do even that." Dean laughs softly. "Used to think it was tedious and boring. That's why I always let Sam take point on anything to do with research. Now, I'll do anything that'll allow me to stay in the hunt."
"How did you learn anything, if you didn't do research?"
"Oh, I did it when I had to," he says. A tone of amusement creeps into his voice again. "But I knew Sam loved to do it, so I let him. I was more of a practical learner. And I knew Sam would give me all the information I'd need if I was on a hunt and dad also knew a lot of this stuff."
"So you taught yourself how to hunt by having other people tell you how it's done? No way!"
"That was pretty much it, in the beginning. But then, my dad caught on, handed me his journal and some books and said I needed to take in more information than just from hearsay, or I'd get myself killed one day."
"He was right, you know."
"Yeah, he was. He was also scary smart. Taught us to use knowledge gained from others and from books, but to think outside the box too. I've done a lot of that when Sam was at Stanford. And in the years since, as well."
"I wonder how my dad would've approached teaching me how to hunt?" Thinking and talking about her departed father has gotten easier since finding out the truth about the day he'd died. "I know that I already had the basics in grip when I started out on my own. But that was it. Mom's the one who really whipped me into shape. Told me the same thing your dad told you. And experience hunting with her taught me the rest."
"I bet Ellen was more of a drill sergeant than my dad."
"She was tough as nails. But she didn't really think outside the box like John. I was more likely to experiment with stuff than her."
There's a stretch of silence after her last statement. For a moment, Jo thinks that the call's cut off. But when she checks, she finds that it's still ongoing. Then, Dean resumes talking and she quickly puts the phone back to her ear.
"I'll make you a promise," he says. "As soon as I'm fit to be out in the field again, you find us a case, anything that catches your interest, and we'll go check it out. Do some out of the box thinking, just the two of us. How's that sound?"
"I'd love that."
Jo's heart does a funny little flip, at the thought of a chance to pair up with Dean for a hunt. It'd been something of a secret desire of hers—to work cases alongside him—for years. Being, at least, a more frequent hunting partner had been a wish she'd kept hidden, ever since that case in Philadelphia. If only they both hadn't been so pigheaded.
"Then we have a deal," he continues. "It shouldn't take me more than another month, or so, to be able to handle the bunker stairs. I've been exercising every day and training with you guys as much as my old man body allows me. I'll do my best to become as fit as can be again. So, we have a deal, right?"
"Yeah, Dean, we have a deal."
Her phone buzzes then and she quickly checks it. There's a message from Sam, informing her that he's bringing coffee and breakfast, and that Jesse and Cesar are going to join them. She types a swift answer, then returns her attention to Dean.
"Hey, your brother is on his way with coffee and food," she says. "Can we do a rain check on the call? I'll get Sam to make a stop somewhere and we can talk again then."
"Sounds good. Enjoy breakfast, and tell Jesse and Cesar I said hi."
"Will do. Try to get some rest. Even if you can't sleep right now, at least lie down in your recliner for a bit. Maybe listen to some music. Just try to unwind for a bit, okay?"
"Okay, I'll try." He doesn't sound too convincing, but there's nothing else Jo can do from the other side of the country. "Hear you later. Bye."
"Bye."
As soon as the call disconnects, the motel room door opens and Sam walks in, followed by Jesse and Cesar. They all have takeaway boxes with food—that smells delicious—and a cup holder with four coffees. Jo's appetite skyrockets the second her nose picks up the enticing aromas. Seems like the previous day's activities have taken a toll.
On the three men's heels, Brutus also enters the room. Sam had taken him for a run and the dog seems pretty content, if a little tired. When he sees her, he starts wagging his tail and rushes to her side to greet her. Jo welcomes him with open arms. From her position sitting down on the bed, she only has to bend a bit to be level with Brutus' head. Which she does, letting him nuzzle the side of her face as she runs her hands along the fur on his back and withers. God, she really loves this dog!
"So, I got you that heart attack breakfast you were so keen on," Sam says. "Dean would be proud of you for choosing it."
"I know, right?" Jo quips back, flashing him her best cheeky grin. "I intend to make the most of my second chance at life, which means I'll indulge whenever I get the chance. Carpe diem, baby!"
"Hear hear!" Jesse and Cesar say in unison.
"You never know when you'll be eating your last meal in this business," Cesar adds.
"Well, I'm gonna try to make it past my forties if I get the chance," Sam says.
The long suffering expression on his face makes the others laugh. They make a few more jokes on the subject, as they take their seats at the small table. Jo grabs a plastic fork, and takes her scrambled eggs and fried sausage and sits back down on the bed. Sam takes the small armchair in the corner of the room. The table isn't large enough to seat four people. It barely has enough space for the two men who sit there. But Jo doesn't mind. She even waves off Jesse, who offers to cede her his chair. Sam knows better than to try, after having heard her stories about eating in bed most of the times she'd stayed at a motel.
"So, Dean and I had a little chat earlier," Jo says, after finishing her meal.
She gets up and tosses the empty containers in the trash can. When she goes to take her coffee, Jesse and Cesar turn their chairs around so they'll be face to face. Sam pulls the armchair closer to the table, so that they end up sitting in a sort of circle.
"How's Dean doing, by the way?" Cesar asks.
"Better every day," Jo answers. "Anyway, we talked for a while about this and that, and we came to the conclusion that we should keep in touch. Make it a habit to ask for help when some case turns out to need more manpower."
"That sounds like a good idea," Jesse says. "We seem to have a mutual friend with Eileen. It won't hurt to exchange numbers and check in now and then?"
"Yeah, that would be a great first start," Sam says. "We're still working on that digital database and we've already started to put together somewhat of a network with our other friends. I've tried to do that once, with the refugees from another universe, but it fell apart. Maybe this time, it'll work out."
"If we band together," Cesar chimes in, "and have an easy way to access information, we might even be able to take on more complicated cases. Things that require a team, like this vamp nest we just took out."
"And we can also help the younger generation that way," Jesse says. "Lately, we've come across quite a few young hunters. Most of them only had basic knowledge or none at all."
"Jody has some experience dealing with young and angry hunters who have no idea about what they're doing," Sam says. "We can talk to Donna and see if she's interested in helping out too. She's close with Jody and her girls."
"Dean also suggested," Jo adds, "that we could give a copy of the bunker key to a few more trusted friends."
Sam seems to do a double take at that last statement. Jo tries not to burst out laughing at his expression. It's not easy to keep her composure.
"Dean's willing to share the bunker?" he asks, visibly making an effort to shake off his shock.
"That's what he said," Jo replies.
"That bunker of yours could be a nifty place to crash for the night, if we're ever in the area," Jesse says.
"Okay, then," Sam says. He seems to have made peace with this new revelation, that his brother is now open to the possibility of other people staying in the bunker. "Next time we go on a hunt, we should meet up so I can give you guys a key. Eileen and I will probably find a case within a week or two. Should be able to make a detour once we agree on a rendezvous point. I'd rather hand it over personally, than send it through the mail."
"Good idea," Cesar says, "There's been a lot of demonic activity lately. I'm sure the bastards would be thrilled to get their hands on a key to that place."
The mention of demonic activity makes a chill run down Jo's spine. The Jailer is still on the loose. He's probably behind the rebellion Rowena's been dealing with for the past months. Jo hopes that they'll be able to deal with him soon. Because, if he manages to dethrone the Queen of Hell, it'll be a disaster.
"So, it's settled then," Sam says. "We'll let you know when and discuss the place and time once we leave for our next hunt."
There's a chorus of agreement. Jo does her best to shake off the thoughts about the Jailer and joins in in exchanging phone numbers with the other hunter pair. She's off her game now, having been reminded of that bastard. It's a bit of a struggle to stay focused as Jesse and Cesar take their leave, but she manages to not make a fool of herself. Before long, she and Sam are alone.
"Do you want to shower first?"
Ever the gentleman, just like his brother. Jo initially wants to refuse, but realizes that she needs a distraction. It's possible Sam had also come to the same conclusion and that's another reason he's offering to cede her the use of the shower first.
"Sure. Thanks, Sam."
"No problem."
Washing up doesn't take long. The routine activity helps her clear her head, though. By the time she's done and dressed up in clean clothes, she feels a little calmer.
While Sam takes his turn getting ready in the bathroom, Jo packs her things. Sam seems to have already done that, only leaving the stuff he needs. He makes quick work of said stuff when he's back in the room. Like Jo, he's been trained to be fast when grabbing his things and taking off when the situation demands it. Even though they're not in a hurry, there's no use in lingering. Just before ten o'clock, they're off. She sends Dean a message that they're now on the road.
Jo remembers a few convenient shortcuts as they travel back to South Dakota. So does Sam. If they keep this up, and the traffic remains light, they'll reach their destination within twenty-four hours.
They don't have to make any more stops, as they'd set out earlier this time. Her mother's storage unit had been a bust anyway. There's nothing except for furniture and clothes, the stuff they'd had in their home. She'd taken a few of her belongings and a nice leather jacket of her mother's that she'd always liked. Her mom had worn it in her wild younger years but, by the time Jo was a teenager, it'd no longer fit over her mother's more ample chest. She'd promised to give it to Jo when she graduated college. Of course, that had never happened.
At the memory of that particular failure, Jo has to push the regret of having disappointed her mom to the back of her mind. It's too late to change things now. Moving forward, she'll have to focus on being a hunter that would make both of her parents proud.
The rest of the contents of that unit will have to be sorted at another time. Most of it Jo wants to donate. Even her own clothes—which hadn't been that many to begin with—since she's sort of changed her wardrobe. She's sure they still fit, but they're mostly out of fashion. And it's not that she cares about that all that much, but it'll help to ground her in the present, to drive home that she's among the living again. She'll only hang on to the stuff that has sentimental value.
A couple of hours later, they pull over into a more decent looking rest stop. It has a little shop at one end and the parking lot looks tidy. Jo hopes that the toilets are clean. They let Brutus out to take a leak and head towards one of the benches on the side of the lot. It's a sunny day, for once. Chilly, but at least it's not raining. They sit side by side and Sam pulls out his phone and dials Eileen's number. His girlfriend's smiling face appears on the screen three rings later.
"Hey guys!" she says. "I see you got an early start."
"Yeah." Sam nods along with his words and props the phone against his water bottle so he can use both hands to sign. "Traffic seems to be light, so far. If it stays like this, we'll be back at the cabin by early morning."
"You're not stopping for the night?" Dean's voice comes from somewhere in the background.
A few seconds later, he shuffles into the frame, prompting Eileen to adjust her grip on the phone so they're both visible. Jo has to bite back a gasp when she sees how exhausted Dean looks. There are bags under his eyes. His hands shake slightly and he tries a little too hard to smile. He'd admitted to Jo earlier that he'd had a rough night. But seeing him now makes her think that it'd been several nights in a row of not enough sleep.
"Dude!" Sam says, shock evident in his voice. "Have you slept at all since we left? You look like crap."
"Thanks," is Dean's deadpan answer. His bitch face almost rivals Sam's. "I really appreciate the compliment."
"Yeah, well, you look like death warmed over. And I've seen you dead before. How long have you been awake?"
"A while." Dean's answer is curt and he frowns at his brother. "Anyway, you said you were gonna drive straight through. That right?"
"Yeah, that's it," Jo says, cutting across whatever retort Sam had been about to let loose. "The storage unit didn't have anything useful in it, so we've got nothing to pick up from there. Might as well head straight home."
At that last word, Dean's expression softens a bit and a small smile curves his lips. Sam, on the other hand, gives her the side-eye. He's obviously not happy with her for having allowed Dean to change the subject.
"Which one of you is driving?" Eileen asks then.
She'd stayed out of the brothers' little argument, but had offered Dean her silent support. Jo can see that the other woman is rubbing Dean's back in gentle up and down motions. It's probably the reason Dean hadn't snapped at his brother.
"We're taking turns," Sam says. He also seems to have calmed down. "Between the two of us, we know of a lot of shortcuts. We'll be home before you know it."
"Okay, well, drive safely," Dean says.
Eileen snorts at his words. It makes Jo realize that the other woman had been reading Dean's lip movements, because he'd forgotten to sign along ever since Sam's comment regarding his appearance. When he's pissed, Dean forgets to use his hands. Sam is the exact opposite.
"And call us if you change your mind and decide you do want to stop for the night," Dean continues.
"Will do," Jo says, just as Eileen waves to them. She waves back. "See you soon."
"Go lie down, you dumbass," Sam chimes in. "You look like you're gonna fall over!"
"Bye, bitch."
"See ya, jerk."
With that, Dean reaches over and hangs up. Jo has just enough time to see the exasperated smile on Eileen's face as he does it, before the connection is cut off. Next to her, Sam releases a heavy sigh.
"That's the look Dean has when he's had a horrible nightmare," Sam says after a while, "and is terrified of a repeat performance if he tries to sleep again."
"Yeah, I'm familiar with that one." Jo picks up her water bottle and takes a long gulp. "I can also tell it was a doozy by the fact that he didn't even give me the cliff notes version of what he'd dreamt about. He won't tell anyone until he's ready."
"He tells you about his nightmares?"
If Jo is not mistaken, Sam's tone sounds a bit incredulous. She frowns. With how close the brothers have always been, surely they've talked about this stuff at least once before.
"We both talk about them," is her answer. "We've made a habit out of sharing some of this stuff, ever since that night our defenses were breached. It helps us calm down afterward, and talking about it makes it easier to come to terms with the fact that it didn't really happen. That it was all just in our heads." Jo pauses to toss her empty bottle. "He's never done it with you?"
"Trying to get him to open up after a nightmare is like pulling teeth," Sam says. "Not that I'm much better. Both of us usually look for solace in a bottle of booze."
"That is definitely bad for your liver."
Sam lets loose a snort of laughter at that. They get up from the bench and Jo whistles to get Brutus' attention. The dog had taken an interest in the bushes lining the parking lot, sniffing at each of them in turn. Jo had kept an eye on him, checking now and then to make sure he didn't get into any sort of trouble. With the number of drivers who have their noses glued to a phone nowadays, she didn't want to take a risk. Giving the last bush one more sniff, Brutus turns and makes his way back to her side.
They use the restrooms, buy themselves some more water for the road and head off. Sam is the one to get behind the wheel again. Jo had made him promise—when they'd left South Dakota a few days ago—to let her do the driving when he got tired.
When they cross into Indiana, just past Louisville, Sam pulls them into a gas station that also has a diner. While Sam refuels the tank, Jo finds them a table. It's the only one with a view of the entire space, as well as the windows and door. Luckily, it's free. As soon as Sam joins her, they order coffee and some sandwiches. Jo also asks the waitress to bring her a slice of apple pie. The food and drinks are, surprisingly, quite good. They both order another cup of coffee when they're done.
"Once we're back at the cabin," Jo says, "I'll look for a case for you and Eileen to take on. I know she was disappointed that she couldn't participate, after getting all excited about it."
"Oh, she'll love that," Sam says. His lips curl up in a shrewd looking smirk, before he continues. "Although, she wasn't the only one who was disappointed by the turn of events."
"I know. You two have been dying to go, just you and her, for a while now." Jo takes another sip of coffee. "Can't say I blame you. Being out on a hunt can give you the opportunity to be alone with her, instead of having to share a space with two other people."
"Yeah, and us leaving will also give you the chance to be alone with Dean. He was also let down by the change in plans. Guess he was anticipating having you all to himself for a few days."
At this point, Jo catches on to where he's trying to steer the discussion. So she lets him. She even eggs him on.
"Is that so?" she asks.
"Jo, a blind man can see that the two of you enjoy each other's company. You talk about your nightmares, which neither of you does with anyone else. He lets you drive his car. You know he hates it when someone who's not him drives it. You guys share a bed. You're already behaving like a couple. The only ones oblivious to that fact are you and him."
"So you think we're bumping uglies?"
Jo tries to keep a serious face, but nearly fails when Sam's coffee decides to take a detour up his nostrils. Luckily, he manages to catch it with a napkin. She hands him a few more tissues as he coughs and gives it her best not to laugh at his wide-eyed look.
"Are you?" he asks.
At that, Jo can't help it anymore. She laughs at his expression, at his tone. She laughs at the very fact that they're having this discussion in the first place. And her laughter seems to be infectious, because Sam soon joins her.
"Sam, if we really were doing the devil's tango, don't you think we'd at least close the door to our room?"
"Yeah, you have a point." He pauses for a bit, smile fading and expression becoming serious. "But I stand by what I said earlier. You and Dean are dancing around each other. It's really obvious from all your other interactions, from the smallest of touches, to the way you banter and flirt when you think nobody's around to notice. And, no matter the reason you two sleep in the same bed, it's clear that you both feel comfortable enough with the other to do so."
Jo's own smile slips off her face. She swallows dryly, but doesn't interrupt Sam. She realizes that there's no use in further deflecting from the subject.
"I know my brother," Sam continues after a beat. "He's practically yearning for something more than friendship. And I can tell that you're just as enamored with him as he is with you. So what's stopping you from making a move?"
"I don't know."
Jo's answer is immediate. Sam seems surprized by her reply. He'd probably expected her to dodge providing an answer.
"I think I've had a crush on him ever since the day we first met," she goes on. "I was impressed by the fact that he didn't make a big deal out of me punching him in the face. Most guys would whine and grumble about their bruised egos. He took me almost breaking his nose like a champ."
"Yeah, Dean's always had a thing for women who could kick his ass," Sam says. "That's why he's always been attracted to you."
"Well, from my end, it looked different. I know now that he was trying to protect me. But, at the time, his attitude was pissing me off. I'm really glad he's changed since then."
"We all have, one way, or another."
"Anyway," she says, "I never stopped liking him. The more time passed, the deeper those feelings became. After that incident in Duluth, I shoved my feelings to the back of my mind and focused on hunting. But they never went away. They were always there, close to the surface, even after I died." She pauses for a few seconds, remembering what the Jailer had delighted in showing her. "And all that time I was stuck in Hell, those feelings intensified tenfold. I think the demon picked up on them and used them to hurt me in the only way he knew I feared."
As the memories rise to the surface, Jo has to stop and take a few deep breaths. Sam, noticing her discomfort, reaches out and takes her hands into his own. The gentle touch grounds her, giving her the strength to continue speaking.
"I've picked up on some of those changes in Dean's behavior too. I've noticed that he's started paying attention to me in a different way than he had in the past. And I do want us to be more than friends. Guess neither of us knows how to take that next step yet."
"You'll figure it out when the time is right."
"The ever elusive right place, right time?" Jo asks, the bittersweet memory of that day, so long ago, taking on a new meaning. "Never would have thought, back then, that it would take us an eternity to find it."
"Better late than never, right?" Sam replies. A small smile flits across his features for a split second. "At least you're not old and gray yet."
"You know," Jo says on the tail end of a chuckle, "when Jack said that you guys raised him, I almost thought that was the case. I thought decades had passed since I died. It was quite a relief when he told me it'd only been eleven years."
"Considering how that can be stretched out to feel like centuries in Hell," Sam says, "it's a very long time to love someone. I'm presuming that's when you realized you loved him."
"Yes and no." Jo tries to focus on the warmth of Sam's hands, still wrapped around hers, to once more keep herself grounded. "At first, it was a powerful attraction, later mixed with affection, that kept on growing. In Carthage, I felt that we could have had more, if we'd only been given the time." Pausing to put her thoughts in order, she takes a deep, shuddering breath, then goes on. "When Osiris was forcing me to bear witness against Dean, I was overcome by the urge to protect him at all costs."
"Is that why you didn't tell him you were in Hell?" Sam asks.
"It would have done more harm than good," she says, "and it could have gotten Dean killed. Knowing that he was alive gave me the strength to eventually see through the Jailer's illusions. In a way, Osiris' stunt helped me pull through and come out the other end with my soul intact. Things could have gone much differently, if I hadn't known that Dean was still among the living."
Finally being able to admit her feelings for Dean aloud, and having the chance to share them with someone who understands, is cathartic. An overwhelming surge of relief encompasses Jo. She can confide in him things she'd never even told her own mother, and Sam won't judge her. For that, she is incredibly grateful. Hopefully, she'll be able to return the favor one day.
"Until recently," Jo says, when she's managed to regain her footing somewhat, "I couldn't pinpoint the exact moment my affection for Dean turned into love. Not until we got back from that hunt in Montana. It's when I realized that I've loved him, truly loved him, since that thing with Osiris."
"What brought on the revelation?" Sam asks.
"The time I spent in the Pit left me with the side effect of being unable to get warm sometimes," Jo replies, "especially after a stressful situation. Dean picked up on it that night when we were attacked in our dreams. Said he'd gone through something similar after being resurrected. He offered his assistance and we slept on the recliner. During the hunt, I could more easily control it. I don't know why."
"I remember that," he says. "My best guess is that your body's default setting while on a hunt is survival mode, so to speak. So it sort of overrides everything else. But, once that's over, something like an adrenaline crash sets in and it hits you hard."
"That makes sense." She'd never thought about it that way. "And, boy, did it hit me hard when I was back at the cabin. So when Dean offered to share his bed and body heat for no other reason than to help me be comfortable, practically pleading with me to let him do so, I…"
Jo has to stop and swallow around the lump that's formed in her throat. She pushes down her emotions, clears her throat and starts talking again.
"It dawned on me that, if I hadn't already been in love with him by that point, that would have been the moment I fell."
Sam is silent for quite a while after she's done talking. His hands, Jo is surprised to note, are still holding hers. And his light—but steady—grip doesn't waver as he processes all the information she's given him.
"Thank you," he finally says, "for trusting me with all of that."
"It was quite the chick flick moment, wasn't it?" she retorts.
Even though she smiles, a tear still escapes to run down her cheek. Jo doesn't know what had shaken it loose. It's not due to sadness. On the contrary, she's happy. Sam wipes the wetness from her face with the backs of his fingers and returns her smile.
"I promise not to tell Dean that you had one of those," he says in a mock serious tone.
"Thanks," Jo quips. One deep breath later, she rises from her chair. "Now, we better get going if we want to avoid rush hour on the next stretch of road."
Sam pays the bill while Jo lets Brutus out of the car one last time to take a leak. Jo's the one who gets behind the wheel for the next stretch. The following hour, or so, is spent trading funny stories about their lives and families, things the two of them hadn't shared with each other yet. A while later, they make a short bathroom stop and feed Brutus. They've just crossed into Illinois, so they're almost half-way to their destination. Despite them making good time, Jo is anxious to get back to the cabin as fast as possible.
Close to Peoria, the road is closed. Jo grumbles under her breath because she has to take the detour. Sam tells her that her reaction is very similar to what Dean's would have been.
"You wanna know a funny little tidbit about Dean?" Sam asks her when they're back on the interstate.
"Sure. Tell me."
"He probably never admitted it to anyone, not even himself, but he was chicken shit scared of crossing your mom by showing interest in you. After finding out about your dad... I think he was also desperate to avoid repeating our own father's mistake."
"Yeah, I figured that's what he meant in Duluth, about not getting my blood on his hands."
Jo pulls them over into a rest stop right then. They've entered Iowa and Sam had insisted on driving on the last leg of their journey. It's already dark outside, so Jo doesn't really mind handing over the reins to him. She doesn't hate driving at night, but she's also not a big fan of it.
"As for his fear of my mom," she says, "he let that slip before the case in Philadelphia. He didn't say why, though, and I thought it must have been because of how overprotective she was of me when it came to hunting."
"That was only part of it, I'm sure. The rest was him thinking Ellen wouldn't approve of him and not wanting to get on her bad side."
As funny as the thought of Dean being scared of her mother is, she finds herself wondering how he would behave around her mom now. Would he still be afraid of her? With him being older now, more mature and wise, Jo thinks that things would probably be a bit different. Some days, Dean reminds her of her dad. On second thought, that resemblance would probably not help matters in the slightest. Her mother's aversion to Jo dating a hunter would be kicked into overdrive.
"Mom would definitely have huffed and puffed," she tells Sam as they switch places. "She hated the idea of me falling for a hunter and losing him to the job like she did my father. Guess she never considered it would end up being the other way around."
Silence settles for a while. Soon, they reach the South Dakota border and Jo finds herself wondering if Dean had managed to get any rest since they'd last spoken to him. She really hopes so. Because, in that video call, he'd looked wiped out and ready to drop, like Sam had said.
"I'm really glad you're back from the dead, Jo."
Sam's voice breaks the quiet. Jo turns her head to look at him, but his eyes are firmly on the road. From this angle, she can't get a precise read on his expression. His words and tone suggest relief.
"Me too," she says.
"What happened to you was unfair," Sam continues. "I wish there was a way to make Chuck pay for what he did."
"Dean already promised to lend me his cane, if we ever bumped into the former God again." She smirks along to her next words. "I'd really like to beat the snot out of him."
"You'd definitely be entitled to get the chance," Sam says. "In light of everything we've found out, we all want a swing at him. Especially for what he did to you…" He seems to struggle with his words for a bit. When he looks like he's gotten his emotions under control, he speaks again. "The fact that the plan was to shove another soul into your restored body makes me seethe with rage. Because I'm sure the plan was put together by Chuck and also put in motion by him somehow."
"I don't even wanna think about what would have happened, had their ritual succeeded. A whole bunch of hunters would have died. Many civilians would have been caught in the crossfire, too. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't leave everyone still alive at the mercy of some monster wearing my face."
"We would all have been blindsided," Sam says, gripping the steering wheel tight. "And Dean…. Thinking you were back, then finding out it was all a deception would have destroyed him unlike anything else. I don't even want to know what his reaction would've looked like."
"I'm afraid that I already know," Jo says.
"What do you mean?"
"When Osiris had me topside, he tried forcing me to kill Dean in a way similar to my own death. Except for putting a circle of salt on the floor around him, Dean didn't make any effort to defend himself. He was going to let me kill him, because he felt he deserved it. You can't even imagine how relieved I was when I was free of Osiris' control."
Sam doesn't speak for quite a while, once her words sink in. Jo tries not to let the sadness invoked by that memory overwhelm her. Obviously, at the time, Dean had been really depressed, blaming himself for every bad thing that had happened so far. Now, things would probably have gone a bit differently, yet the result would have been the same.
"I didn't know…" Sam says, at last. "He never told me what happened and I thought it wise not to push him on it. But I never thought…"
"That he'd just lay down and take it?"
"Yeah." Sam gulps audibly, then takes a shuddering breath. "I never realized how close I'd come to losing him that day."
"I hope that whatever soul they were trying to put in my skin never makes it out of Hell. Whoever the bitch is deserves to rot forever."
"It was probably someone who took a deal to get off the rack."
Oh crap! Sam's words imply a very unpleasant possibility.
He frowns, as a thought seems to form in his mind. He turns the car right, taking the exit off the interstate and steering the vehicle onto the road into Sioux Falls. The traffic is nearly nonexistent at five in the morning. Jo lets Sam mull things over. By the succession of emotions settling on his face one after the other, she's sure he'd come to the same conclusion she had.
"If we're right, and it was a deal with some demon," he says, "whichever one of them it was that made it will have to honor it. We should expect another attempt."
Bingo! That'd been exactly what she'd thought the very moment Sam had mentioned a deal. Jo wants to smack herself for not thinking about it earlier. She'd merely thought that the demons had wanted a sort of Trojan horse to send into the enemy camp.
"Son of a bitch!" Jo mutters under her breath.
"Let's hope they won't try to use another familiar face."
Jo quietly seethes as they pass through town. The other road that could have taken them to their destination is closed again. She doesn't care, though. It gives her the chance to think about who that soul could possibly be. By the time they reach the cabin, she still hasn't figured out anything beyond the fact that said soul must have been female. When the car comes to a stop, a new thought occurs to her. It's one that horrifies her and, at the same time, pisses her off even more.
"Well," Jo says, unclipping her seat belt, "whatever face they decide to use, it better not be my mom's. If they do that, I'll find a way to eviscerate every single one of the fuckers involved and strangle them with their own guts."
Sam lets out a low whistle and turns to face her, his eyes wide as saucers. There's a small smile on his lips, though. It seems like he doesn't know whether to be scared, amused or impressed. Jo holds back the laugh she wants to let loose upon seeing his expression.
"What?" she asks him.
"Remind me to never piss you off."
The very idea of someone of Sam's size being scared of her makes Jo release that bottled up laugh. Sam also chuckles along. They're finally home and can now unwind.
Upon exiting the car, Jo opens the back passenger door for Brutus while Sam gets their bags. It's only then that she notices that the light is on in the main living space of the cabin. Which means that it's either been left on for her and Sam or one of the other two is still awake. Jo's money is on Dean having one of his nightmare induced bouts of insomnia.
When Jo opens the door to let herself inside—Sam close behind her—her eyes fall upon Dean's hunched form sitting at his usual workspace at the table. She's not surprized she'd been right about his habits. What she doesn't expect is for Dean to not even react to their arrival. He keeps writing. He doesn't even twitch when Sam slams the door hard enough to rattle the windows.
"Oh, this is bad," she mumbles.
At the same time she utters the words, Brutus nudges Dean's left arm with his snout. The physical contact seems to snap him out of his super focused state and he stops writing. He looks up and Jo has to suppress a gasp at how much worse he looks compared to earlier. It's obvious he hadn't slept at all since they last spoke.
"Dude!" Sam doesn't bother to hold back the shock in his voice. "I told you to get some rest. What the hell, man?"
As Dean looks from her to Sam and back, his lips move but no sound emerges. His frown fades and a smile takes residence on his features. Jo drops her duffel bag next to the table by the door, then slowly approaches Dean, who gets to his feet unsteadily. He tries to say something again, but it comes out as an unintelligible whisper. Clearing his throat, he tries again.
"You're back," he says, somewhat louder.
"Yeah, we are," Jo replies.
Three wobbly steps, which nearly tip him over when he loses his balance, bring Dean within reach. Jo notices that he doesn't have his cane. But before she can grab his arm in an attempt to keep him upright, he rushes forward and embraces her tightly. Oh, this is definitely very bad.
Dean's hands, which are clutching the back of her jacket, are trembling even worse now. He's still swaying slightly when Jo wraps her own arms around his torso. It seems to be the only thing keeping him somewhat steady.
"Does anything hurt?" she asks him.
She slowly pulls back from his hold, so she can look at his face. There are bags under his eyes. His beard is ruffled, like he'd run his fingers through it over and over again. Upon closer inspection, she notices that his eyes are also bloodshot. He's pale and his breathing is almost to the point of hyperventilating.
"I've got a killer headache," he says. He lifts a hand to rub at his temples, then turns to look at his brother. "Hey Sam. Eileen went to bed sometime around midnight."
"Good," Jo says quickly. "We should follow suit. We're all tired and need to sleep."
"Yeah, especially you," Sam says, pointing in Dean's direction. "You look like shit."
For a split second, Dean's expression looks like he wants to tell his brother to go screw himself. But then it changes to one of resignation. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, straightening a bit as he releases it. It seems to help with the tremors too.
"Yeah, you're right," he says. "I feel like shit too. Might not be able to sleep, but I'll at least lie down and try."
Seeming slightly less out of it, he hobbles back towards the table and starts putting his notes away. Sam hurries to help him. As the two of them pack up the papers and notebooks into the warded safe, Jo is surprized to note that there's no bottle of whiskey near where Dean had sat earlier. Thinking back, his breath hadn't smelled like he'd had any either.
"Hey Jo?" Sam says a minute later. "Go ahead and get ready for bed. I'll help Dean and feed Brutus."
"Okay, if you're sure," she says.
"Don't worry, I've got this."
Jo decides to be a little selfish and accepts his offer. She knows Sam can handle his brother. So she picks up her duffel bag and heads to the bathroom to change into sleep clothes. It's the one thing neither she nor Dean do in each other's presence just yet. In her case, it's an attempt to not seem too forward. She suspects Dean's reason is pretty much the same.
When she exits the bathroom, Jo can hear Sam. As promised, he's feeding Brutus. She's sure it's him, since the noises are those of someone moving with confidence. At the moment, Dean doing the same would sound much different. She turns to the bedroom door, which is ajar as usual, and goes in.
The light is on on her side. Dean is already in bed, on his side of it. He's laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. His hands are on his stomach, with fingers intertwined, but Jo can still notice the tremors. Once she's inside, she pushes the door back into its original position. Dean's focus shifts to her when he becomes aware of her presence and the look on his face nearly breaks her heart.
Even in the dim light, the fear and uncertainty are clear as day. There's even a hint of despair mixed in with all the other emotions. Tears too, which he seems to fight to hold back. He doesn't make any attempt to hide what he's feeling, only seemingly fighting to keep control and not break down.
Slowly, Jo gets into bed. She stretches on her side, facing him, and Dean's eyes follow her every move. He's completely still, otherwise. Hesitating for a split second, she settles a hand over both of his own, gently rubbing her thumb over their backs. Dean's breath hitches. But, instead of pulling away from the contact—which she'd half feared he'd do when he'd pulled one of his hands from under hers—he seeks more of it. He reaches his right arm around her back and draws her near. The action has her in a position similar to the one she'd had when they'd slept on the recliner. Her head is now pillowed on his chest and one of her hands is on his stomach. After a few minutes, Dean seems to relax a bit.
A click-clack sound announces Brutus' entry into their room. The dog jumps onto their bed and settles at their feet, taking advantage of Miracle's absence. Dean lets out a shaky breath and pulls her even closer. As he buries his nose in her hair, Jo interlocks their fingers on top of his stomach and gives his hand a light squeeze.
"You can talk to me whenever you're ready," she whispers. "And no matter how long it takes for you to reach that point, I'll listen. I'll be there for you."
A beat of silence follows her words. Dean's breathing quickens for a couple of seconds, before it settles into a steady rhythm. Then he swallows thickly. Jo can feel all that due to her position.
"Thank you," he says, his whisper rough, but his voice seems to have regained some of its strength.
They don't speak anymore after that. As Dean begins to unwind more and more, he starts drawing patterns with his fingers on her forearm. The fingers of his other hand, the one keeping her close, are clamped around her other elbow and are still. Just as Jo wonders if he'll be able to drift off, his breaths become deeper and more even. His fingers slowly come to a halt. The muscles in his chest and biceps, which Jo could feel the tension in, gradually relax. Jo knows that he's out for the count when he lets out a soft snore. He tends to do that when he's particularly exhausted. When he's had a bit too much to drink, though, his snoring is as loud as a freight train. Certain now that Dean is asleep, Jo dares to let herself be pulled into slumber too.
Thank you all for reading and leaving kudos, and for all your wonderful comments! I'll try my best to write and publish the next chapter as soon as my health allows. Fingers crossed that it won't take another year to do so. I hope you've had a good holiday season and wish you all a happy and healthy new year!