SPN Fic: Lullaby (1/1) Jo, Sam, Dean
Title: Lullaby
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Rated: PG
Characters: Jo, Sam, Dean. Hints of Dean/Jo.
Spoilers: Up through “Fresh Blood” though no real specifics.
Wordcount: 739
She hears about him every now and then, but it’s not because she asks.
Jo would never ask. Her pride won’t let her mouth make the same mistake her heart did.
But she keeps her eyes open and her ear to the ground for anything pertaining to him or his brother. When an old friend breezes in for a drink and mentions that two hundred some odd demons escaped from a gateway to hell, her instincts tell her that somehow he was involved. She is barely able to conceal the fear that stabs at her like an ice pick to the heart as she casually asks what moron let something like that happen.
Sure enough, he tells her it was the Winchester brothers, along with Bobby Singer.
And her mother.
She cringes involuntarily and decided that the feud between them was going to have to come to an abrupt end. She doesn’t look forward to that conversation with her mom, but it is a necessary evil.
It is she who tells Jo the whole grisly truth-that Sam had died in Dean’s arms, and Dean had made a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back.
She never doubted he’d do just that if anything happened to his little brother. She’d often wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister to either look after or to have look after her, and she envied them for that. She wondered if she would have made the same decision he had-to sacrifice herself to save someone else.
When she wondered if anyone in the world would do that for her, she felt a flash of guilt, because she knew her mother would.
But it wasn’t enough.
Nothing ever was with Jo.
Because the heart wanted what the heart wanted, rationality be damned.
Jo briefly considers going to a crossroads to break the deal that Dean has made. Offering her own self up for his life, but dismisses the idea. She might be a hunter, but she is no martyr. Not even if she did love the guy. He wouldn’t understand anyway. Because unrequited loves never did.
The next thing she hears about the brothers is that they’ve gotten themselves mixed up with an old acquaintance.
Jo always hated Bela and hearing that she was involved with Dean and Sam only fueled that hatred that much more.
She wondered if it was truly hate she was feeling, or if it was jealousy.
These days she wasn’t sure there was even a difference.
For six long months she is on edge. She hears nothing about him from anyone. Not her mother, not Bobby, not any random hunter who stops in for a drink and a tip on how to kill a Kayache Demon. It’s like both of them just dropped off the map entirely.
As she wipes down the bar just after three a.m. a couple weeks before Christmas, she looks up when the door opens and a feeling of deja vu washes over her as she sees Sam Winchester standing there. She freezes, her eyes locked on his weary face, her body tense. “Sam.”
He holds her gaze for the briefest of moments and then closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Jo swallows hard, her last bit of hope crashing to the floor. “Whiskey?” Her voice is rough.
Sam moves to sit at the bar wordlessly, slumping onto the stool.
She pours him a drink, and then one for herself and she drinks it down without hesitation before pouring herself another and doing the same for Sam as he downs his just as quickly.
“I tried everything,” he whispers, his voice strained.
Jo doesn’t want to hear this. Not now. And not from Sam. “I didn’t.”
His eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t know.”
She gives him a look and drinks another shot of whiskey as he falls silent.
“He wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
Jo tenses for a moment, then relaxes. “I know. He wouldn’t have wanted you to either.”
Sam looks down at the bar. “I didn’t really know where else to go.”
She is silent for a moment, and then pours him another. “Well you came to the right place. Just the two of us and a bar full of booze.”
He glances at her and then raises his shot glass. “To getting really wasted.”
Jo clinks her glass against his and downs the whiskey like a bedtime lullaby.
Author: X_tremeroswellian
Rated: PG
Characters: Jo, Sam, Dean. Hints of Dean/Jo.
Spoilers: Up through “Fresh Blood” though no real specifics.
Wordcount: 739
She hears about him every now and then, but it’s not because she asks.
Jo would never ask. Her pride won’t let her mouth make the same mistake her heart did.
But she keeps her eyes open and her ear to the ground for anything pertaining to him or his brother. When an old friend breezes in for a drink and mentions that two hundred some odd demons escaped from a gateway to hell, her instincts tell her that somehow he was involved. She is barely able to conceal the fear that stabs at her like an ice pick to the heart as she casually asks what moron let something like that happen.
Sure enough, he tells her it was the Winchester brothers, along with Bobby Singer.
And her mother.
She cringes involuntarily and decided that the feud between them was going to have to come to an abrupt end. She doesn’t look forward to that conversation with her mom, but it is a necessary evil.
It is she who tells Jo the whole grisly truth-that Sam had died in Dean’s arms, and Dean had made a deal with a crossroads demon to bring him back.
She never doubted he’d do just that if anything happened to his little brother. She’d often wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister to either look after or to have look after her, and she envied them for that. She wondered if she would have made the same decision he had-to sacrifice herself to save someone else.
When she wondered if anyone in the world would do that for her, she felt a flash of guilt, because she knew her mother would.
But it wasn’t enough.
Nothing ever was with Jo.
Because the heart wanted what the heart wanted, rationality be damned.
Jo briefly considers going to a crossroads to break the deal that Dean has made. Offering her own self up for his life, but dismisses the idea. She might be a hunter, but she is no martyr. Not even if she did love the guy. He wouldn’t understand anyway. Because unrequited loves never did.
The next thing she hears about the brothers is that they’ve gotten themselves mixed up with an old acquaintance.
Jo always hated Bela and hearing that she was involved with Dean and Sam only fueled that hatred that much more.
She wondered if it was truly hate she was feeling, or if it was jealousy.
These days she wasn’t sure there was even a difference.
For six long months she is on edge. She hears nothing about him from anyone. Not her mother, not Bobby, not any random hunter who stops in for a drink and a tip on how to kill a Kayache Demon. It’s like both of them just dropped off the map entirely.
As she wipes down the bar just after three a.m. a couple weeks before Christmas, she looks up when the door opens and a feeling of deja vu washes over her as she sees Sam Winchester standing there. She freezes, her eyes locked on his weary face, her body tense. “Sam.”
He holds her gaze for the briefest of moments and then closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Jo swallows hard, her last bit of hope crashing to the floor. “Whiskey?” Her voice is rough.
Sam moves to sit at the bar wordlessly, slumping onto the stool.
She pours him a drink, and then one for herself and she drinks it down without hesitation before pouring herself another and doing the same for Sam as he downs his just as quickly.
“I tried everything,” he whispers, his voice strained.
Jo doesn’t want to hear this. Not now. And not from Sam. “I didn’t.”
His eyebrows furrow. “You didn’t know.”
She gives him a look and drinks another shot of whiskey as he falls silent.
“He wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
Jo tenses for a moment, then relaxes. “I know. He wouldn’t have wanted you to either.”
Sam looks down at the bar. “I didn’t really know where else to go.”
She is silent for a moment, and then pours him another. “Well you came to the right place. Just the two of us and a bar full of booze.”
He glances at her and then raises his shot glass. “To getting really wasted.”
Jo clinks her glass against his and downs the whiskey like a bedtime lullaby.