breath of life ; [dean]

[Jo Harvelle]

It was almost closing time and the busy evening crowd was starting to dwindle down to the people who had nowhere to go and no-one to be, and those too drunk to move. It was part of the job, so Jo didn't even hesitate as she moved around the bar, cleaning up and preparing to shut shop.

Was it weird to be back? Hell yes, it was. She'd been back for just over two weeks now and she couldn't get over the fact that she was alive. Again. Look, she wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth, but she didn't even know if it was a gift or if it would turn around and bite her in the back later down the track. She knew her universe; no one was brought back from the dead, no strings attached.

She'd woken up in this all-too-fake town with its 'we care for our town and our people' residents and she'd wanted to gag. Jo wasn't used to this; she was used to the Roadhouse and its gruff hunters, people with not enough words but would back you up in a fight to the death. She was used to people recognising her and knowing she could be worth her own in a fight.

More than anything, she was used to something supernatural, but this town was just plain old vanilla. There was absolutely nothing and no one interesting here for her. Maybe that was what she needed just for right now.

With a small sigh, she kept her eyes on her hands as she wiped the tables down, picking up stray beer bottles as she went. Soon, she would be out of here and finally be able to start getting answers to her questions.

---

Dean Winchester

[Dean Winchester]

Food, beer, that was what he needed more than anything else right now. This town was crazy weird. The girl he met when he was looking for the sheriff was a spit fire, kind of reminded him forcefully of another strong, attractive, and amazing blonde he once knew. Jo, damn he missed her. She was amazing, he had been falling for her and then just like that, boom, gone. It had destroyed him for a bit, and he was still having a hard time accepting it. Some nights he would have nightmares where she was there, blaming him for her death. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. It was his stupid brain making him think those things, because it was how he truly felt and he knew that. He never would forgive himself for her dying trying to save them all. Her and Ellen going out in a blaze of glory. God it still killed him. Opening the door to the grill he looked around for a moment. It was close to closing and he hoped that the people working weren't going to be angry enough to do something like spit in his food.

Seeing the waitress or bartender whatever she was walking around he only saw the back of her head. Another blonde. Was this town full of them or what? He cleared his throat and walked up behind her, " Hey there, I'm sorry for coming in so late I was just hoping I could get a beer and maybe a burger? If not the burger I will totally settle for just the beer. Been a day ya know?" when she turned around though his heart stopped in his chest. Jo. That wasn't even possible. How the hell? Who was he kidding, he himself had already died a few times it seemed and been brought back, how would she be any different. He sank onto a stool and just stared at her for a moment, " I swear to God, if you are some black eyed bitch trying to use someone that meant the world to me to piss me off it worked. If you really are Harvelle I may need more than just one beer."

Looking at her he felt the pain in his chest and his heart wrenched as he looked at her. She looked exactly as he remembered her, strong, beautiful and probably ready to kick his ass for the tear that was making its way down his cheek. Standing up he just wrapped his arms tightly around her and hugged her to him. Not wanting to let her go. She was warm, he could smell the familiar scent of her shampoo, she was alive, she really was, " How, Jo? How are you back?" he kissed the top of her head and finally let her out of his arms. " You died, I saw it, no one comes back from well, an explosion like that."

[Jo Harvelle]

---

Jo had just reached the bar with a few empty beer bottles in hand when she heard the door open. Mindlessly, she continued with her task, thinking it to be one of her late-night patrons finally deciding to call it a night and head on home. About time - Jo had to get home, probably sleep for a couple of hours, then get up and get back to researching. She was treating her resurrection like a hunt, as she should be, nothing and no one normal got her to where she was. No doubt it would be helluva lot powerful; she needed to be prepared.

Hearing the slight, dull tread behind her, Jo's senses sharpened as she realised it was not a patron going out, but maybe another one coming in. At this hour, Jo was pretty exhausted, and so it wasn't with a smile or a too-friendly face as she turned around to face the newcomer, her mind belatedly catching up with her that the voice talking about grabbing a beer had sounded familiar.

She wasn't expecting to see him, not here, not now. It caused a literal jolt in her veins, locking her bones in place as she felt the blood leave her face. What the hell?

"Dean?" she whispered incredulously, not trusting her voice to remain steady as she took in the vision of someone - finally - familiar to her. And it was him, really him, from the look of guilt and elation warring on his face, to his haunted eyes, to the familiar way he half-slouched as he looked at her. Even if she did doubt him, his words about being a demon was enough to make her believe he really was Dean fucking Winchester.

There was a tear sparkling there as it ran quickly down his cheek as though embarrassed it ever made an appearance, and Jo knew she would tease him for it later, but now... it was too early, there was too much, it was all too real. Without another word, he had gathered her frozen limbs into his arms and gave her a bone-crushing hug and it was all Jo could do to not fall to pieces as she inhaled his familiar scent.

When Dean finally let her out of his embrace, Jo couldn't help but continue staring at him, as though daring herself to wake up and find out it was all a dream. It wasn't though, it was the same Dean, just perhaps with more wrinkles on his still-beautiful face and a tiredness about him that spoke of a hard few years since she saw him last.

It was the questions he asked that unstuck her throat long enough to answer. "I... I don't know. I just woke up whole and here in the middle of this town with no idea what happened and-and I'd lost years." She was starting to babble now, maybe that slightly hysterical breakdown was on the horizon. It was with a little sharper tone when she continued, "I know I died, I..."

Almost unconsciously, she lunged forward to grab at Dean's shirt, her death reminding her of the one person she needed to see. "My mother, Dean, my mother, have you seen her? Is she alive? Did she bring me back? Because I swear if anyone's smelled out something big and bad enough to get me back in exchange for their soul, it would be her, goddamn it."

---

Dean Winchester

[Dean Winchester]

The deaths of Jo and Ellen had destroyed Dean for a good long while. He never really accepted it, hell Jo's ghost had managed to make that difficult at one point too. Or whatever the hell that had been. A fresh wound reopened as he looked at the blonde in front of him. Jo was alive, how he had no idea, but she was alive and well and he couldn't believe it. Demons had played some nasty tricks on him before but the feeling of her in his arms really made it feel more real. He knew she was really here, he recognized the little things, and it made his heart skip a beat. She was back, she was fine, and it was so unreal that he began to wonder if he was dreaming. When she had moved out of his arms he could really look at her, and she looked exactly how he remembered her. Beautiful and whole and full of fire. Jo was always so strong, albeit a bit rough around the edges, but she was always a great person, a good hunter, and she had sacrificed her own life for them. She and Ellen.

" Seems that has been happening a lot. I have met that death myself, but kept coming back. Damn angels...wait." he touched her shoulder. " You didn't have some giant red hand print on you or anything did you? Because thats what happened to me when Castiel brought be back." he frowned, " that would prove you were brought back by an angel if you had something like that, at least I think so. " he ran a hand over his head and tried to figure things out but it was difficult, this town was like a magnet for supernatural stuff, he had seen it in the little bit of time he had been here, and he and Sam couldn't quite figure out what the hell they were dealing with. " I think we both need a beer at this point." he went around the bar, not giving a damn and grabbed them both one popping the tops and set one in front of her.

SHe then asked the question he hadn't wanted to answer. His eyes looked into hers and brimmed over a bit as she grabbed his shirt and demanded to know about her mother. " Jo, baby, I haven't seen Ellen since she stayed behind with you and the hellhounds." he swallowed the pain down and wrapped her up again in his arms, not knowing what else to do. " Jo I'm so sorry, but I don't think she is back. That doesn't mean she isn't but I haven't seen her, neither has Sam." he frowned, " I don't think anyone sacrificed anything this time. Ellen made me promise I wouldn't so I hadn't. I don't know whats going on Jo, but if Ellen is back i will help you find her, I promise. "

[Jo Harvelle]

---

It was beyond incredible seeing Dean's face again, something Jo had made her peace to probably never see again, unless they both wound up in the same afterlife. She had had a crush on him when they first met, and Jo felt that she would always care for the man. He was, after all, the last person she had kissed before she died. But it felt as though those emotions had dimmed somewhat, and it wasn't only because she'd died. She'd genuinely started considering Dean more as a friend than as a potential lover sometime in those years - it felt liberating to be able to accept his comfort without thinking of possible romantic moments.

That didn't mean Jo wouldn't treasure their last kiss together, though.

Jo was pulled out of her thoughts at the mention of angels. Yes she had thought of the feather bastards at first, and she was a mite terrified that she'd somehow garnered the attention of one; it was something no human ever needed in their life, expect perhaps if your name was Sam or Dean Winchester and you had an uncanny knack for dying.

Jo shook her head at Dean. "No," she replied, "no handprints, nothing that looks anything out of the ordinary." A hand strayed to the side of her abdomen, her fingers ghosting over her side as she looked down at where there should have been a mangle of flesh and muscle. "The only thing weird - aside from me being back - is that I've got no scars, nothing to show I was ever a hellhound's chew toy."

Not that she was attached to it, but it felt even more surreal to Jo that she was back whole. If it wasn't for her memory, she might think she'd never have died in the first place. It was a very unsettling feeling. A wan, ironic smirk gracced her face as she looked up to meet Dean's eyes at his mention of a beer. "A drink sounds good."

She made her way over to the bar, glad that her last couple of patrons had made themselves scarce and she could continue her conversation with Dean without needing to worry about what people might overhear. She busied herself, getting a couple of bottles of beer and taking their caps off, fiddling around more than usual to keep from showing emotion at the mention that no one had seen her mother. "It's okay," she murmured, sliding a bottle over to Dean and taking a sip of her own. "I just thought it might have been her." She didn't need to explain more than that.

---

Dean Winchester