Takes place in February 2009, before episode 4.17.


The Righteous Man

"You're looking a little less banged up."

Dean smiled slightly, easing himself down on the side of the bed after setting down the tray he had managed to bring up. "I'm feeling less banged up. Brought you some stuff." He gestured stiffly at the nightstand.

Jane raised her head off the pillow and eyeballed the contents of the tray as best she could via her limited vision due to awkward angles. "Oh happy pills!"

"Addict." He snorted, though he did reach out to grab said happy pills and the bottle of Ginger Ale next to them.

"You're moving better."

"I feel better."

"Popping happy pills of your own?"

"No, not anymore." Dean watched as she gingerly rolled onto her side, waiting as she carefully propped herself into a semi-upright position. "Want to talk about it?"

Jane was helping herself to the Vicodin, and didn't pause in the process of tonguing them, uncapping the soda and swallowing the whole mess down. She did, however, have an eyebrow raised at him the entire time. He was asking if she wanted to talk, that was just a little weird. "Isn't that my line?"

"Usually… but this was your first major hunt."

"Without you." She added what he had implied.

He nodded.

Jane really looked at him, really studied him and realized that he had been worried, and stressed. On top of what had happened prior to her and Sam taking off for Michigan, this hunt had only compounded Dean's issues. "Well, I think Sam already gave you a rundown of what happened. We didn't have to kill anything that may have been semi-human or on the good side of the mortality scale, so no emotional scarring on my part."

"Just physical." His eyes strayed to her uncovered back, taking in the scabs.

"It could have been a lot worse, Dean." She said gently, seeing the flash of anger quicken his face for a moment. "And don't be blaming Sam, it wasn't his fault."

"Hmm."

"And you can get over the bit about him seeing me sort of naked up top Dean, it wasn't like he had a choice." She had read that flash accurately, scowling at him. "If anything, you should be glad."

"Glad?"

"He saved my life, Dean." Of course, she had saved his too; it had been a give and take on the life saving exchange. "So cut him some slack."


"Don't even try it."

"Sam, it itches!" Jane whined, trying to wriggle her back against the doorframe, scowling when Sam reached out with both hands to stop her. She loved her brother-in-law, really she did, but she was very tempted to kick him in the baby makers right now. Her back was itching like crazy, which she supposed was a good thing in terms of everything healing properly or some such nonsense, but it was also driving her insane. "Sammy!"

"Jane, you're going to scar the hell out of your back if you don't stop trying to itch it." Sam just tightened his grip on her shoulders and twisted his lower body when he seen the murderous expression in her stormy gray eyes. "Don't even think about it, it's for your own good."

"Can't you at least put something on it for the itch? Please?" She was begging, but that was a lot of itch to cover. "Please?"

"Sure, let me go get the whiskey." He knew he shouldn't tease but… Jane hated the very idea of whiskey being anywhere near her in something besides a drinking capacity. It probably had something to do with the fact that Dean had treated her torn up arms with whiskey that day Meg had literally thrown Jane back into their lives. Curiously, he looked down, taking in her bare arms, noting they were scarred for perhaps the first time ever. She had been tossed back into the mess they called their life in the summer of 2006 and been with them ever since, so two years and some odd months, and this was the first time he was noticing she had accumulated some scars.

When he had met her the first time, in June of 2006, she had been fresh faced, wary, but unscarred. Now she had the lovely marks on her back that were going to pucker her pale skin for the rest of her life, the scarring on both arms, a tiny scar up near her temple, and he didn't to know if she had anything else anywhere else. "We're getting you killed, aren't we?"

Jane blinked, totally forgetting about the itch, and just stared up at him, wondering where that had come from. "I beg your pardon?"

"Slowly but surely, we're getting you killed, Jane."

"Well aren't you a bright ray of sunshine today, Sam." Jane was done trying to itch her back, more focused on him now, wondering where the really depressing thoughts had come from. She followed his stare down to her arms, then cocked an eyebrow. "This wasn't you… it was Meg." She would never, ever, forget being kidnapped by the psycho demon bitch.

"If you hadn't-"

"Sam, shut up, okay? Seriously." Jane had learned quickly that Winchester's harbored guilt issues when it came to loved one and she figured they had enough of that with each other, they didn't need throwing her into their guilt pot. "I'm fine, really."

He looked doubtful.

"Where's Bobby? I'm going to have him smack you around on my behalf, I bet he'd like that…" She shrugged away from him, grinning up at him. "Smile Sammy, or else."

"Else what?"

"Pink hair dye in your shampoo bottle when you least expect it."

He grudgingly gave her a half smile.


"I've been thinking about you said."

Given that Jane and Sam had been 'home' for three weeks, hello February, Dean had a very hard time pinpointing what he had said. "What?" They were once again holed up in their bedroom, both of them enjoying being able to move about with less pain and pulling of tender areas. Jane was celebrating being able to have some pressure against her back again by laying nestled against him, his arms wrapped around her. He was enjoying it too, not that he'd admit it, he had already used up his allotted amount of 'emotional moments' for the year.

"Before Sam and I left, about… about the apocalypse."

Dean fell silent, racking his brain. He had been seriously drug addled then but that couldn't stop him from forgetting that moment. He had told her about the righteous man starting the apocalypse, about him starting it. He felt the shame and despair washing over him again, for what was probably the millionth time. "Jane…"

"Hush, let me talk." She pinched his side, but didn't raise her head off his shoulder. "Your dad wasn't a righteous man, Dean."

Of all the things she could say, that was not the one he expected, and Dean felt the automatic urge to defend John rising, scowling down at her head.

She could feel how tense he had become and knew he was getting pissed. "Think about it Dean. Your dad did what he did out of vengeance and revenge, not righteousness."

"He saved people." Dean said, barely able to suppress the growl in his tone.

"Yeah he did, but his ultimate motivation wasn't helping those people, was it?" Jane was well aware she was lining up for a punch, but that didn't stop her. She had had plenty of time to rehash what Dean had told her, think about what she knew of John –thanks Bobby-, and draw her own conclusions. "The demons thought it would be John, didn't they?"

He nodded, movements stiff.

"Well they were wrong, obviously. Dean, you were the righteous man, you are the righteous man. I don't think John was ever meant to be the one to break the seal. If he had caved in, I don't think anything would have happened. I'm sorry, darlin', but I think it was always meant to be you."

Dean was silent for a very long time, considering everything she had said. "I'm not a righteous man, Janey." He said finally, quietly.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

Given Jane had had some relatively secret visits from Castiel, secret because how was she supposed to explain to her husband that an angel liked hijacking her dreams from time to time, and the contents of their discussions had always been… odd… she felt pretty certain Dean was the righteous man. "You're wrong, Dean."

She didn't think the angels would have invested so much into him if he wasn't the one. Hmm, it sounded very dramatic when she thought of it that way and she made a mental note to never say it outside her head. Speaking of angels, she hadn't heard from Castiel, not even in her dreams, since that day he had refused to heal Dean at the hospital. She hoped it stayed that way.

Dean had nothing to say, knowing he wasn't going to change her mind anymore then she was going to change his. He simply held her a little tighter.