In Which Dean Tries Not to Get His Head Blown Off

[jstliketherifle]

He hadn't been alone since he had gotten back from the Pit, and to be perfectly honest, he hadn't really wanted to be. He had wanted as many people around as possible, because he knew that if there was the possibility that this was some kind of trick, and Alastair was just doing this to get his hopes up before dragging him back down again, back to

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[ironknifehunter]

Jo paused when she heard the Impala. Sam was visiting again? That was strange. He didn't really come to the Roadhouse anymore. She guessed he was busy with other things. Demon armies and all that. But when she looked up and saw Dean, who was supposed to be dead, she got angry real fast.

She grabbed the shotgun from behind the bar and leveled it at the imposter's head. "Alright, get out before I send you back to the hell hole you crawled out of."

[jstliketherifle]

Dean raised his hands slowly, giving her the best sheepish look he could manage before speaking, trying to figure out the best way to say this without getting himself shot. It wasn't exactly easy. He knew from experience that Jo could pull the trigger for the smallest reasons, and he really didn't feel like being shot today.

"Easy, Harvelle. It's me. I'm human, I promise."

[ironknifehunter]

"You're dead." She said firmly. Sam would have told her if Dean had come back from the dead. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he rented a sky writer for it. But no one came back from the dead.

[jstliketherifle]

"I know," Dean said with a sigh. God, he was screwing this up. He was screwing this up big time, but he didn't know how else to do it. "I know, but give me whatever test you want -- I'm human, Jo. I swear."