Then
Missouri, November 19, 2009...
Dean turned as the building behind him exploded, heart pounding, adrenalin rushing, and it seemed as though for the space of a single heartbeat, time stood still. He stood there watching helplessly as every memory he'd ever had of Jo flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds, from the moment he'd first met her at Harvelle's Roadhouse to their last goodbye only moments before. "I'll see you on the other side. Probably sooner than later," he'd promised.
"Make it later," she'd told him, with her last dying breaths.
And then, Dean had kissed her. How long had he been wanting to kiss her" Since the first day they'd met back in Nebraska. She'd just been a kid, but since then, she'd grown into a lovely, young woman, a hunter in her own right, and every time he'd seen her, the sparks had been there, just beneath the surface, as if all that was needed was one kiss to set the fire burning.
He'd finally had that kiss, while Jo lay bleeding out on the floor of the hardware store. A bittersweet kiss. First kiss and last kiss, all rolled into one. A final farewell. No words said, no words needed. Their eyes had met for a long moment, and something unsaid seemed to pass between them. Everything that had ever needed to be said in that last lingering gaze. All the hellos, farewells, and I love yous in one long, last look.
But it was too late. It was always too late. Too late to love her. To late to save her. Too damned late.
And now, Dean watched helplessly as the building burned with Jo and Ellen inside, and he knew in his heart, whatever might have been would never be. It hadn't been Dean's idea; it had been Jo's, brave even in death, braver than anyone he'd ever known. It was because of him she was dead. It should have been him, not her. He'd trade places with her in a heartbeat, if he could, but he hadn't been given that choice.
It wasn't fair. Why her" Despite what he told anyone or what he chose to believe himself, she was more than a kid sister to him. So much more. And when she died, something died with him.
"Dean..."
He heard Sam's voice calling him, pulling him back from the brink of despair.
Dean swallowed down the tears that were threatening and tried to catch his breath, turning his back on the burning building that served as Jo and Ellen's funeral pyre. There was no time to think about it now, no time to think at all. They had to get out of there, and they had to get out of there now, before Meg returned and set more hell hounds on their trail.
He'd think about Jo later. In the deep of the night when nightmares kept him awake, and the rest of the world slept, he'd think of her then. He'd never forget her. He'd keep her memory alive, a secret love that was never meant to be, forever safe in his heart.
Joanna Beth Harvelle 4/7/85 - 11/19/09
Missouri, November 19, 2009...
Dean turned as the building behind him exploded, heart pounding, adrenalin rushing, and it seemed as though for the space of a single heartbeat, time stood still. He stood there watching helplessly as every memory he'd ever had of Jo flashed through his mind in a matter of seconds, from the moment he'd first met her at Harvelle's Roadhouse to their last goodbye only moments before. "I'll see you on the other side. Probably sooner than later," he'd promised.
"Make it later," she'd told him, with her last dying breaths.
And then, Dean had kissed her. How long had he been wanting to kiss her" Since the first day they'd met back in Nebraska. She'd just been a kid, but since then, she'd grown into a lovely, young woman, a hunter in her own right, and every time he'd seen her, the sparks had been there, just beneath the surface, as if all that was needed was one kiss to set the fire burning.
He'd finally had that kiss, while Jo lay bleeding out on the floor of the hardware store. A bittersweet kiss. First kiss and last kiss, all rolled into one. A final farewell. No words said, no words needed. Their eyes had met for a long moment, and something unsaid seemed to pass between them. Everything that had ever needed to be said in that last lingering gaze. All the hellos, farewells, and I love yous in one long, last look.
But it was too late. It was always too late. Too late to love her. To late to save her. Too damned late.
And now, Dean watched helplessly as the building burned with Jo and Ellen inside, and he knew in his heart, whatever might have been would never be. It hadn't been Dean's idea; it had been Jo's, brave even in death, braver than anyone he'd ever known. It was because of him she was dead. It should have been him, not her. He'd trade places with her in a heartbeat, if he could, but he hadn't been given that choice.
It wasn't fair. Why her" Despite what he told anyone or what he chose to believe himself, she was more than a kid sister to him. So much more. And when she died, something died with him.
"Dean..."
He heard Sam's voice calling him, pulling him back from the brink of despair.
Dean swallowed down the tears that were threatening and tried to catch his breath, turning his back on the burning building that served as Jo and Ellen's funeral pyre. There was no time to think about it now, no time to think at all. They had to get out of there, and they had to get out of there now, before Meg returned and set more hell hounds on their trail.
He'd think about Jo later. In the deep of the night when nightmares kept him awake, and the rest of the world slept, he'd think of her then. He'd never forget her. He'd keep her memory alive, a secret love that was never meant to be, forever safe in his heart.
Joanna Beth Harvelle 4/7/85 - 11/19/09