Supernatural, Jo/Dean. 30kisses #20
Title: Carry Me Home
Pairing/Fandom: Jo Harvelle/Dean Winchester, Supernatural
Theme: #20 the road home
Disclaimer: Not mine :)
Rating: PG-13
Written for the 30kisses challenge
"Are you sure that you're okay?"
Jo’s voice was soft. “I said that I was.”
Dean sighed, “It’s just that… you just don’t seem okay.”
“Well I am.” Her voice was unintentionally sharp. She bit her lip and turned away.
“You don’t have to bitch at me; I was just asking.”
Jo whispered an apology to the cornfields speeding past.
“What?” She could tell that Dean was getting annoyed.
“I said that I was sorry.” Immediately Jo regretted the tone in her voice. Her mother used that tone when her father was still alive. It was the tone of voice that said ‘I’m making an effort to be nice, but I’m still pissed at you.’ The last time Jo heard her mother use that tone was on her sixth birthday, when her father left her birthday dinner to investigate a Bigfoot sighting. She closed her eyes, remembering the argument that shook the walls of the Roadhouse.
“It’s Jo’s birthday-can’t this thing wait one day?” Ellen’s voice was rising. She knew that her daughter could hear her, but she didn’t care.
“It’s already killed three people and if I wait any longer it will kill more. I’ll be back in a few days.” Jo, seated alone at the dinner table, heard the familiar sound of dulled thumps and clanks as Bill packed seven knives, three guns, a case of silver bullets (just in case) and a vial of holy water (because you never know) in his worn leather satchel.
“Fine.” Ellen’s voice was cold and her tone was designed to tell Bill that he would have to make it up to Jo for leaving her party. She turned and stormed out of the room, calling to her daughter. “Jo, honey? Jo?”
“Jo?”
With a start, Jo realized Dean, not her mother, was the one calling her name. “I’m sorry. I was thinking.”
Dean tore his eyes away from the road home. “Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do this, you know. We can call Sammy and make him stop by the Roadhouse. Hell, you can wait in the motel room if you really want.”
“I’ll have to see her eventually, Dean. Besides, Sam’s busy with that spirit in Sante Fe. We can’t call him in for everything.”
“I know,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in an unexpected gesture of affection. Jo’s throat closed up and she squeezed his hand tightly. “Are you-”
“I’m sure, Dean.”
Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the Roadhouse and cut the engine. He sighed, “Here goes nothing.” A heartbeat before they opened the door, Jo pulled Dean close and kissed him hard, desperately. When she pulled away, Dean quirked an eyebrow. “What was that for?”
Jo smiled for the first time that day. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s go show your mother that you’re still in one piece.”
Pairing/Fandom: Jo Harvelle/Dean Winchester, Supernatural
Theme: #20 the road home
Disclaimer: Not mine :)
Rating: PG-13
Written for the 30kisses challenge
"Are you sure that you're okay?"
Jo’s voice was soft. “I said that I was.”
Dean sighed, “It’s just that… you just don’t seem okay.”
“Well I am.” Her voice was unintentionally sharp. She bit her lip and turned away.
“You don’t have to bitch at me; I was just asking.”
Jo whispered an apology to the cornfields speeding past.
“What?” She could tell that Dean was getting annoyed.
“I said that I was sorry.” Immediately Jo regretted the tone in her voice. Her mother used that tone when her father was still alive. It was the tone of voice that said ‘I’m making an effort to be nice, but I’m still pissed at you.’ The last time Jo heard her mother use that tone was on her sixth birthday, when her father left her birthday dinner to investigate a Bigfoot sighting. She closed her eyes, remembering the argument that shook the walls of the Roadhouse.
“It’s Jo’s birthday-can’t this thing wait one day?” Ellen’s voice was rising. She knew that her daughter could hear her, but she didn’t care.
“It’s already killed three people and if I wait any longer it will kill more. I’ll be back in a few days.” Jo, seated alone at the dinner table, heard the familiar sound of dulled thumps and clanks as Bill packed seven knives, three guns, a case of silver bullets (just in case) and a vial of holy water (because you never know) in his worn leather satchel.
“Fine.” Ellen’s voice was cold and her tone was designed to tell Bill that he would have to make it up to Jo for leaving her party. She turned and stormed out of the room, calling to her daughter. “Jo, honey? Jo?”
“Jo?”
With a start, Jo realized Dean, not her mother, was the one calling her name. “I’m sorry. I was thinking.”
Dean tore his eyes away from the road home. “Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do this, you know. We can call Sammy and make him stop by the Roadhouse. Hell, you can wait in the motel room if you really want.”
“I’ll have to see her eventually, Dean. Besides, Sam’s busy with that spirit in Sante Fe. We can’t call him in for everything.”
“I know,” he said, reaching out and taking her hand in an unexpected gesture of affection. Jo’s throat closed up and she squeezed his hand tightly. “Are you-”
“I’m sure, Dean.”
Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the Roadhouse and cut the engine. He sighed, “Here goes nothing.” A heartbeat before they opened the door, Jo pulled Dean close and kissed him hard, desperately. When she pulled away, Dean quirked an eyebrow. “What was that for?”
Jo smiled for the first time that day. “I love you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s go show your mother that you’re still in one piece.”