Set, partially, during 5.15 with the ending scene of 5.17 (Dean and Lisa) borrowed and butchered.
90: It Kills Me
"You can stay, but if I catch you sneaking either one of them in here, girl, I'm going to shoot you first. Got me?"
Jane hesitated, finally nodding. "Yeah, I got you, old man." He had booted Dean and Sam the hell out after they had returned from an old woman who had been the first to rise, and now the first to turn. Jane got what Dean had been saying, she understood the implications, and she also understood Bobby's reaction. "Bobby, if you want me to leave…"
"No, Karen likes you. I'm just saying is all, no Sam, no Dean. Not… not until things settle down."
Jane bit her lower lip. Settle down sounded sort of final.
"Karen, you shouldn't be near the windows." While Jane loved her husband and generally supported him, she knew firsthand he could be vicious and an asshole. This would be one of those times. He loved Bobby as a father, and as far as Dean was concerned, Bobby was in danger.
"You think Dean is out there, waiting to take a shot?"
"I hope not but it's likely."
Karen smiled, letting her forehead rest the windowpane. "Bobby made it sound like you thought the sun shined out of Dean's… backside."
Jane couldn't help but laugh at that. "Sometimes maybe," She admitted sheepishly, walking over to join the other woman at the window. "But I also know he can be a lying bastard, so…" She shrugged. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just a little tired."
That was weird. Karen hadn't seemed tired since rising basically, if anything, she had been making everyone around her tired just because of how energetic she had seemed. "I'll go get Bobby."
"I'm fine, Jane, really."
"I'm still going to get Bobby."
"What's going on?"
"Karen is sick."
Dean knew something had to be going on for Jane to come out and actually talk to him. She had taken Bobby's warning pretty sternly and was avoiding buckshot to the ass, so far. "Sick how? Is she turning?"
"I think so." Jane reached out to grab his shoulders to stop him when he instantly began heading for the house. "Dean, if it comes to it, Bobby will…"She hesitated. Put her down had been what immediately came to mind but Karen wasn't a pet, she was the man's wife. "He'll do the right thing, Dean, you know he will."
"What if he can't?"
"He's done it before."
Dean was staring past her, at the house, obviously torn between going in there and doing what he didn't think Bobby could and giving him the chance. "Could you do it to me, if you had too?"
"I've watched you die a time or two Dean," Jane said dryly, really not appreciating this line of thought. "Doing it myself… I don't know, maybe. If I really had too."
"Good."
"Could you shoot me?"
Dean hesitated, staring down at her. "Maybe, probably." He had watched her die, though maybe it didn't count, back when they had been dealing with that wishing coin. He never wanted to do that again. He had seen her, in an alternate future, suffering and didn't want to see that again either. "Probably not." He finally admitted. "I'd try to save you."
Jane couldn't help but smile, though she did shake her head slightly. "Sometimes Dean, you have to learn to let go."
"Haven't learned how to yet, sweetheart." He pulled her against him, feeling her tucking her head under his chin and sighed, a moment's contentment washing through him. "Say it."
"You first." She mumbled, eyes closed, quite comfortable nestled against him like this. It had been awhile it seemed, since they had just held each other. Things had been busy, and tense, since that stupid cupid episode. When he just snorted, Jane smirked, some things just never seemed to change. "I love you, Dean Winchester." She could practically feel his purr of approval rumbling through his chest and pulled back, shaking her head again. "Where's Sam?"
"In town, preparing for a zombie invasion."
"You should probably go help him then."
"Jane…"
"Dean, Bobby has this. And if he doesn't, then I do." Granted, blowing Karen's head off would royally suck, but if it had to be done, she would do it. "Go on, go help Sam. I've got this here."
He hesitated, looking past her towards the house, eyes thoughtful. "You call me if something goes wrong."
"Nothing is going to go wrong."
"Bobby, if you want to… I don't know, sit this-" Jane stopped speaking when she got a shotgun levelled her way, swallowing down the rest of that sentence. "Sorry." She muttered, turning away to survey the junk yard, her own sawed off in hand. She had come inside after Dean had left, been in for maybe twenty minutes when she had heard the shot fired. She didn't need to guess what had happened, she knew. She had given Bobby space, waiting at a window until he had come downstairs. When he had finally come down, she had taken one look at him and felt her heart break. He had had to kill his wife not once, but twice. She couldn't imagine doing that, no matter what she said.
"Let's just get going." Bobby grumbled, resting his shotgun on his lap.
Jane nodded, starting towards him only to pause. "You hear that?"
"I heard it."
"I'll be right back."
Of all the ways to die, stuck in a closet with Bobby, with zombies chomping at the bit to get past that flimsy door was not exactly the way Jane had pictured going. Mind you, she had been relatively close to death a lot lately, but this was still not what had sprung to mind when envisioning her death. Not that she liked envisioning it at all but… in this line of work, with the Winchester's… it was inevitable and probably going to be painful. "Well… at least they can't work a lock, right?"
Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, the door knob began turning and Jane felt something squishy in her chest go plop. The look Bobby was now giving her was one very familiar, she had seen him giving it to Dean. It was a 'you're an idjit' look.
"Bite me!"
"I'll let them do it since we're both about to be chow!"
They were both running low on ammo since the rest of it was outside, in the van, and Jane jumped, shrieked and fired off what was probably her last round into a snarling face. She might have also pissed herself a little.
"Get down!"
That was Dean and his familiar commanding; growling tone of voice caused her to react automatically. Jane ducked, moving out of the way as best she could, noting that Bobby was awkwardly trying to do the same. She covered her ears and clenched her eyes shut, able to visualize and still hear the zombie massacre occurring only feet away.
When it was finally over, she peeked from her crouched position, locking eyes with Bobby. He looked like he had seen better days and so did his closet; there was no amount of scrubbing that was going to get those stains out. "You all right, old man?"
Bobby just grunted at her, peering out the door. He took in the bodies barricading his floor and shook his head. "Get us out of here."
"Hold your horses, wheels." Dean muttered, picking his way through the mess until he reached his wife. "Sweetheart, you okay?"
Jane let him pull her up, feeling him pulling her limbs about, apparently checking to make sure she wasn't damaged. When he was satisfied, she found her face being crushed against his chest. "Can't… breathe…"
"Last time I listen to you." Was his response, his lips brushing the top of her head.
"Thanks honey, I'm fine." Bobby interrupted in a surly tone, glaring up at Dean when Dean deigned to pry himself off his wife. "You get them all?"
"All that were here. Nobody showed up in town." That was actually embarrassing. Sam and the sheriff had rounded up the locals, gave them weapons, and then sat around with their thumbs up their asses. "It looks… like they were all headed this way."
Bobby didn't seem all that surprised.
"We need to talk."
Considering she hadn't heard from Dean in a few weeks, that probably wasn't the best opening line he could shoot her. After the zombie incident, which they learned was Death putting out a hit on Bobby, sort of, Sam and Dean had taken off. She knew Bobby had probably wanted space to deal with having to kill his wife, again, but Jane hadn't been able to just up and leave him.
She had become a silent fixture around the house. She gave him his space but kept things running, kept her sentences short and to the point. She let Bobby do his thing while she did hers. Eventually, he began speaking to her again outside of short, terse sentences.
"Considering I haven't heard from you in a while, that's not a good way to say hello." She said without turning around, finishing the rest of her coffee before placing the empty mug in the sink.
"Hello, sweetheart, we need to talk."
Jane let him guide her outside, towards the garage, frowning. "Dean, what's going on?"
Sighing, he stopped and let go of her hand, turning to stare down at her. He really looked at her, taking in every line of her face, the few scars she had accumulated over the years, and compared the woman before him to the girl he had met back in that bar. "Sometimes I think leaving your ass in Mexico was the smartest thing I ever did."
Jane was tempted to slap him silly, her gray eyes narrowing slightly.
"Not that it mattered, because you're still here."
"Dean, darlin', try pulling your foot out of your mouth before you insert the other."
Shaking his head, Dean gently placed his hands on her waist, pulling her into him. "Jane, what I'm trying to say is I know I've messed your life up." He shushed her when she opened her mouth to interrupt. "I already know what you're going to say, so don't. Face it sweetheart, if not for me, you wouldn't be here, experiencing end times first hand."
"That's not true and you know it." She whispered, knowing he hadn't forgotten about her 'special' status. "I'm here because I want to be."
"That's what kills me."
"Dean?"
"Jane, when I think about… about really settling down, stopping with the hunt, I see us together… the house, white picket fence, some kids… the whole nine yards. It'd be great, but… what I dream about and what's reality just aren't lining up." He could see he was scaring her, he rarely talked like this, about their future… mentioning kids was only brought up as a joke and still scarce. "Jane, you know what's coming, what's going to happen."
She nodded slowly.
"I'm… I'm making arrangements sweetheart, I'm going to make sure that no matter what happens, you'll be all right, understand? You'll be taken care of."
"What do you mean you're making arrangements?" Jane caught his face when he went to turn his head. "No, don't you look away from me, Dean Winchester, explain."
"Do I really need too?"
It clicked then, the way he whispered the words, the sadness, and she knew what he meant. He was going to say yes to Michael. All the fighting they had done, going against the angels, trying to fix this, it was all for nothing because in the end he was going to give in. When he brushed the pad of his thumb under her eye, Jane realized she was crying and caught his hand, fingers curling around it. "No."
"Jane-" He sounded resigned, like he had practiced this argument a million times already.
"No, Dean, no. You're not giving up, you're not giving in, and you're not giving me this stupid speech! I don't want to be 'taken care of', I want you. If it means I die, then I die. I don't care!"
"Don't you say that Jane, you care."
"No I don't, I wouldn't." Maybe it was the lovely programming she was equipped with but the idea of living life without him hurt. It caused something deep inside to ache in ways she didn't know existed, and Jane didn't care about being made for him, none of that. At the end of the day, she loved him and screw Heaven and anything that came from it. Loving Dean was her choice. "Don't give up, Dean, please…" They had had this conversation, or something very much like it, not to long ago. About him giving up… at the time, it seemed like he was giving up on life in general, and that had bothered her but not like this. Not only was he giving up on life, he was giving up on them, on any future they might have had. "You're not making plans or arrangements for me, that's not how this works."
"It is now, Jane." He said firmly, trying to ignore the way his throat seemed to be locking up. "I've searched high and low, literally, and everywhere in between and God is nowhere to be found. Heaven tells us he's backing out of this, it's over, Jane. It's over. He doesn't give a rat's ass anymore about what happens, so the way I see it, I've got to do this. The angels are the best chance anyone's got, including you. They might be dicks, but they'll… they'll agree to my terms if they want to use me as a vessel."
"So that's it? You're not even going to consider what I think? You're just going to go ahead and do this?"
"Yes."
She slapped him.
"Damn it, Jane!" He moved fast, arms wrapped around hers, trapping her hands down by her sides, his cheek stinging from her harsh blow. "You think this is easy for me? It's not, it's not!"
Jane could only choke on her words, struggling against him, hating the fact that she couldn't reign in her tears. Hurt and anger vied for top emotion, sadness and a few others she couldn't name off the top of her head making it all the worse.
"Stop it," He shook her lightly. "Stop it, Jane. Sweetheart," He finally met her eyes, flinching at the raw pain he saw. "This kills me, Jane." He whispered, licking his dry lips. "Seeing you like this... it kills me." His lock on her turned into a hold, and he was caressing her back, her black hair, running his hands everywhere he could, trying to soothe her. "Stop, Jane…" He murmured, kissing the wet trails on her cheeks. "You're killing me, sweetheart."
But she couldn't stop.
