Shovel in Hand and Soil Beneath Boots.
Long time no see, guys!
Title: Shovel in Hand and Soil Beneath Boots.
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, unfortunately.
Characters: Dean, Sam, Jo, Bobby.
Summary:How Jo patches up the brothers' lives. For quiet_rebel's Jo Harvelle Ficathon. noelia_g/ Joanna wanted rain, a scar and a coin toss and no character death or fluff. I hope I delivered. :)
The hunt has gone bad.
The brothers are past worn out and have more than couple new scratches to prove it.
Rain comes down hard and heavy as if reflecting their sombre mood as they approach Bobby's front door. Always their last resort. Stubborn. Should have thrown in the towel long before.
“You two look bad,” Bobby states after letting them inside and taking in their long-unshaven faces and blood-shot eyes. Bobby reckons it's been a month at most since he's last seen them, but it looks like it's been longer. A lifetime.
“Sorry to drop in like this,” Dean says with a smile only vaguely resembling his usual smirk.
Sam doesn't say a thing.
A muffled gasp then: “Dean? Sam?” Dean looks past Bobby to see Jo. Hasn't seen that girl since Sam was possessed. He frankly had no intention of ever seeing her again, but here they are. She looks the same, but not. Older. Hair a bit longer. Same wicked glint in her dark eyes.
Dean only acknowledges the girl who once stitched him up with a tired nod. “Alright if me and Sammy stay here for the night?” he asks Bobby.
“Chirsto,” Bobby mutters.
Dean raises an eyebrow. “You think we're possessed or something?” He's too broken to be offended.
Bobby adjusts his old baseball cap. “Can't blame me. Ain't lookin' like yourselves.”
“What happened?” Jo butts in.
The older man gives her a look. “This is my house y'all are in, I ask the questions.”
“Whatever,” Jo says and goes upstairs.
“Sam, what happened?” Bobby asks once Jo's out of earshot.
He doesn't reply. Just glances up with dull eyes. Dean answers, “We were on this one motherfucking case for awhile. Finally finished it up. We just need a place to crash, that's all.” Bobby can tell he's lying, but he can't do a thing about it.
**
Dean brings their bags up from the Impala. Sam just follows silently. There's three rooms on the top floor. One for Jo and one for Bobby and Sam and Dean share the last. Dean stretches out on the creaky bed while Sam stares blankly out the window into the night.
Dean rubs his forehead. “What're we gonna do?”
“I can't kill her,” Sam replies, voice quiet.
Dean sits up. “She's already dead, Sammy!”
Sam's voice rises, “Dean. You don't get it! I can't do it!” He storms out of the room and slams the door behind him. Dean reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp before pulling the covers up to his chin. It's not cold, but he shivers.
**
Jo can't sleep. She tiptoes down the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone up. She opens the door and it's still raining. Jo's about to go back to her room when she spots Sam outside. “Sam?” she says, jogging towards the tall Winchester.
He doesn't give any indication that he's noticed her.
“Sam!”
Nothing.
She's positive he's ignoring her, but can't figure out why. He's the one that taunted her while she was tied to a pole when he was possessed. “Are you mad at me?” she asks softly.
Sam doesn't even look at her. His hair is wet and slick around his face and big fat rain droplets cling to his eyelashes. Jo doesn't like standing out in the downpour like this, but she needs him to talk. She needs to understand.
“Please, Sam, just look at me.” No response. Her shoulders sag and they stand in silence for a few long minutes. Sam finally turns to leave and Jo grabs his arm. “Sam, please, say something.” He yanks his arm away. She can't stand this. “What is wrong with you?” she yells into his face.
Sam finally, achingly slow, looks down at her. He blinks then slugs her right in the face. Hard. She stumbles backwards and falls into a muddy puddle. He returns to the house.
Jo clutches at her cheek where Sam's fist had connected. Her eyes water from the pain. She awkwardly stands up and almost falls back down. Her clothes are soaked through. She slowly walks back to the house, low sobs hitching in her throat.
**
Dean comes down the next morning, freshly shaved and rested, to see that Bobby made breakfast. Sam's already at the table, poking at his food. Dean plops down on the seat beside his brother and piles food onto his plate. Jo comes in a few minutes later. Her skin is startlingly white in contrast to a massive bruise on her cheek, the color of sunsets.
“Fuck Jo, what happened to you?” Dean asks despite his original decision to keep her out of his life.
Jo scowls. “I fell,” she replies in a dangerous voice, looking pointedly at Sam, who doesn't even glance up from his half-eaten breakfast.
Dean can't believe his brother would hit a girl plain out like that. The shit is seriously hitting the fan and he knew he couldn't do a thing about it until he had a chance to talk with Sam alone. Ever since they saw that spirit a little less than three weeks ago, Sam hasn't been himself. “Sorry,” Dean offers, knowing its not nearly enough.
“Here Jo, sit down,” Bobby says, pulling out a chair for her. “Eat something.” He sets out a plate then motions for Dean to follow him out of the room.
“I don't know what the hell is wrong with your brother, but you two have to be gone in an hour,” he tells Dean after he shuts the door. Dean's never seen Bobby so mad.
“Don't worry, we'll be gone before you know it,” Dean replies before sticking his head back into the kitchen. “Come on Sammy, time to jet.”
**
“I'm coming with you,” Jo says stubbornly, bag already packed and slung over her shoulder.
Dean laughs. “No way in hell. Bobby doesn't want us anywhere near you.” He glances over Jo's shoulder and out the window. Sam is already waiting in the Impala.
“Either you're letting me come with you or I'll just follow you in one of Bobby's old cars.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Fine, but you're sitting in the back and no talking to Sam. Got it?”
Jo grins then flinches when the bruised skin over her cheek moves. “Got it,” she says.
**
Jo never asks where they are heading, and they never tell her. She just sits in the back and doesn't say a word. Sam's the same. Dean finds the quiet unbearable. He cranks up all his favorite songs and kind of likes the fact no one is going to tell him to turn it down.
The three check into a motel where the only room left has just one bed. “I claim the bed,” Jo says as soon as they enter the room, and it's the first time she's said anything since they stopped at a gas station over three hours ago.
Dean, eager for some social interaction, is willing to put up a fight. “That's not the way it works, honey. You can't just claim it,” he says, dumping his duffel bag on the floor near the door. Sam sits on the couch and turns on the TV, a slight frown on his face. The brothers haven't had a minute alone to talk yet. Dean knows Sam probably hates that Jo tagged along. “We'll flip a coin,” Dean tells Jo.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Do it.”
Dean grins and digs a quarter out of his back pocket. “Heads you get the bed, tails Sammy does.”
Jo raises an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted the bed.”
He shrugs and smirks. “Nah. I'm not a selfish guy.” He swears he hears Sam snort.
Dean tosses the coin. “Heads. Bed goes to the lady.” He pockets the coin.
“Sam can have it. I'll take the couch,” Jo says with a small smile.
Dean looks at her like she's crazy. “Whatever. Hear that Sammy? Bed's yours,” he says and plops down on the couch beside his brother. Sam grunts then flicks off the TV and gets into the bed. “Guess it's time for bed,” Dean comments.
“Can I talk to you for a second, Dean?” Jo asks. Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Outside,” she adds.
He glances at Sam, who looks to be already asleep. “Yeah alright.”
The two go out onto the balcony. Jo leans over the rail and says, “Where are we going?”
“I don't know,” Dean replies honestly.
Jo sighs. “How can you not know?”
“I just don't.”
“Aren't you guys hunting something?”
“We ain't hunting anything-” He says and Jo frowns questioningly. “-Comes to us.”
**
Jo was comfortable enough on the couch, but sleep wouldn't come. Dean was having trouble on the floor too; tossing and turning every five seconds. She could tell Sam was awake too. The air in the cramped motel room was heavy, thicker. Something was off.
Dean suddenly grunts and sits up, seeming to have given up on sleep. He meets Jo's eyes but instead speaks to Sam: “Sammy, you awake? She's here, I think.”
“I can feel her,” Sam says softly, almost childlike.
“Who?” Jo asks, confused.
Both the brothers' eyes are focused past Jo. The window. She sits up and looks. A flickering pure white light grows to fill most of the room. Jo squints. A woman with wavy blond hair wearing a long white dress appears in the center of the light. She's so beautiful. Jo knows she's dead though.
“Jess?” Sam says, eyes wet. He's waited a long week for her. He was starting to believe he and Dean just imagined her the first few times. Jess's ghost smiles and nods.
With Jo pretty much right next to Jess, Dean can see why Sam hates Jo now. With their matching blond hair and all that glowing light, they look almost the same. It hurts Sam to see Jo alive when all he sees of his dead girlfriend is her ghost.
Sam gets out of the bed and reaches out for Jess. Dean thinks Sam is probably the only man who likes being haunted. It's sick. They need to salt and burn her bones. As if Sam will ever go for that plan.
Dean motions for Jo to come sit with him on the floor. “That Sam's dead girlfriend?” Jo whispers. He nods. “How long has she been haunting him?”
He shrugs. “First time was about three weeks ago. This is the fourth time,” he pauses, “That I know of.”
“Must be hard,” Jo says, not know what else to say.
“Sammy refuses to take care of it. I mean, I'd do it, but I think it's something he has to do.”
Jo watches Sam. “I think you're right.”
The light suddenly disappears and Sam's soft sobbing fills the suddenly quiet room.
**
Against Sam's wishes, Dean is driving them to California. They stop to take care of what should be a quick salt and burn, but Dean's careless because he's too busy keeping an eye on Jo and Sam. Dean watches as his brother and Jo fight side by side, backing each other up. They shoot quick smiles at each other, and he feels like he's witnessing something intimate, but he knows that can't be right. The two forgive each other through the simple act of fighting a common enemy.
Something sharp plunges into his back. “Fuck!” Should be focusing. His knees buckle from the sudden pain. Damn ghost found the weakest link.
“Dean!” Jo hurries over to him while Sam's shotgun bullet connects with the almost transparent ghost. She pulls the ax out of his back with one steady tug.
Sam yells, “Jo, the bones!” Reminding her of what needs to be done.
“Dean, lighter!” Jo says, waiting for him to pass her his.
“Use mine, quick!” Sam tosses his to her.
Within a minute, it's all over. Hungry flames eating away at old bone, the soft fizzing of salt and magic.
**
Back at the motel, Dean takes of his shirt. His back is throbbing with pain but he refuses to go to a hospital. He doesn't care much for hospitals, unless it's for Sammy. His back is a bloodied mess. Sam helps him to lay stomach down on the bed. Jo gets out her first aid kit.
Dean closes his eyes as Jo and Sam work on his back. They work in silence and he almost falls asleep. Jo touches his arm. “Where's this from?”
Dean opens his eyes to see what she's looking at. His scar. It's a new one, still white and fleshy. “Motherfuckin' kid with a swiss army knife,” he tells her but doesn't elaborate. Just closes his eyes again.
Jess's ghost doesn't come that night.
**
It's dark when the three approach Jess's grave. Sam walks ahead, and Dean lets him. It's clear that he needs time alone with her remains before they help her move on. He looks over at Jo and her face is still and unreadable.
Sam kneels by the gravestone, tracing his fingers over the words. Her name. Dean holds a shovel out for his brother to take. “Let's do this,” he says with what he hopes is an encouraging smile.
The brothers dig and Jo sits on the wet grass, telling them a story she heard from another hunter at the Roadhouse. Dean can tell she's trying to lighten the mood, make it easier for Sam, but it doesn't look like it's working. Sam's quiet and intent only on the shovel in his hands and the soil beneath his boots.
They've dug a million holes like this before, and they finish quickly. Dean kind of feels like he should have done something to make this one different. Sam stands over the grave, fingering the pouch of salt. “Ready?” Dean asks. Sam just shakes his head, refusing.
Jo lets out a soft gasp when Jess's ghost appears. It seems like Jess knows what's going to happen. She just gives Sam a bittersweet smile and nods once.
“I can't do this,” Sam says, “Jess... I can't.”
Jo moves to stand between the brothers. “Come on, Sam. I know you can do it.”
Sam doesn't look away from Jess. “No.”
Dean takes his lighter out of his pocket. “Please Sammy. You gotta move on. That's what she wants.”
“I can't move on or that'll mean she's really gone.” Sam sniffs and Dean feels his stomach drop. Sam looks so young.
Jo says a little harshly, “Sam, you have your brother and he'll do everything possible to help you, and you know it. But this is something you have to do. You need to be strong and move on. Stop being a baby about this and do something yourself for once!”
Dean's eyes widen at Jo's bold words, but it works. Sam glances over at Dean. “Give me the damn lighter.” Sam looks at Jess one last time.
End.
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Title: Shovel in Hand and Soil Beneath Boots.
Rating: PG-13 for language and violence.
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, unfortunately.
Characters: Dean, Sam, Jo, Bobby.
Summary:How Jo patches up the brothers' lives. For quiet_rebel's Jo Harvelle Ficathon. noelia_g/ Joanna wanted rain, a scar and a coin toss and no character death or fluff. I hope I delivered. :)
The hunt has gone bad.
The brothers are past worn out and have more than couple new scratches to prove it.
Rain comes down hard and heavy as if reflecting their sombre mood as they approach Bobby's front door. Always their last resort. Stubborn. Should have thrown in the towel long before.
“You two look bad,” Bobby states after letting them inside and taking in their long-unshaven faces and blood-shot eyes. Bobby reckons it's been a month at most since he's last seen them, but it looks like it's been longer. A lifetime.
“Sorry to drop in like this,” Dean says with a smile only vaguely resembling his usual smirk.
Sam doesn't say a thing.
A muffled gasp then: “Dean? Sam?” Dean looks past Bobby to see Jo. Hasn't seen that girl since Sam was possessed. He frankly had no intention of ever seeing her again, but here they are. She looks the same, but not. Older. Hair a bit longer. Same wicked glint in her dark eyes.
Dean only acknowledges the girl who once stitched him up with a tired nod. “Alright if me and Sammy stay here for the night?” he asks Bobby.
“Chirsto,” Bobby mutters.
Dean raises an eyebrow. “You think we're possessed or something?” He's too broken to be offended.
Bobby adjusts his old baseball cap. “Can't blame me. Ain't lookin' like yourselves.”
“What happened?” Jo butts in.
The older man gives her a look. “This is my house y'all are in, I ask the questions.”
“Whatever,” Jo says and goes upstairs.
“Sam, what happened?” Bobby asks once Jo's out of earshot.
He doesn't reply. Just glances up with dull eyes. Dean answers, “We were on this one motherfucking case for awhile. Finally finished it up. We just need a place to crash, that's all.” Bobby can tell he's lying, but he can't do a thing about it.
**
Dean brings their bags up from the Impala. Sam just follows silently. There's three rooms on the top floor. One for Jo and one for Bobby and Sam and Dean share the last. Dean stretches out on the creaky bed while Sam stares blankly out the window into the night.
Dean rubs his forehead. “What're we gonna do?”
“I can't kill her,” Sam replies, voice quiet.
Dean sits up. “She's already dead, Sammy!”
Sam's voice rises, “Dean. You don't get it! I can't do it!” He storms out of the room and slams the door behind him. Dean reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp before pulling the covers up to his chin. It's not cold, but he shivers.
**
Jo can't sleep. She tiptoes down the hallway, not wanting to wake anyone up. She opens the door and it's still raining. Jo's about to go back to her room when she spots Sam outside. “Sam?” she says, jogging towards the tall Winchester.
He doesn't give any indication that he's noticed her.
“Sam!”
Nothing.
She's positive he's ignoring her, but can't figure out why. He's the one that taunted her while she was tied to a pole when he was possessed. “Are you mad at me?” she asks softly.
Sam doesn't even look at her. His hair is wet and slick around his face and big fat rain droplets cling to his eyelashes. Jo doesn't like standing out in the downpour like this, but she needs him to talk. She needs to understand.
“Please, Sam, just look at me.” No response. Her shoulders sag and they stand in silence for a few long minutes. Sam finally turns to leave and Jo grabs his arm. “Sam, please, say something.” He yanks his arm away. She can't stand this. “What is wrong with you?” she yells into his face.
Sam finally, achingly slow, looks down at her. He blinks then slugs her right in the face. Hard. She stumbles backwards and falls into a muddy puddle. He returns to the house.
Jo clutches at her cheek where Sam's fist had connected. Her eyes water from the pain. She awkwardly stands up and almost falls back down. Her clothes are soaked through. She slowly walks back to the house, low sobs hitching in her throat.
**
Dean comes down the next morning, freshly shaved and rested, to see that Bobby made breakfast. Sam's already at the table, poking at his food. Dean plops down on the seat beside his brother and piles food onto his plate. Jo comes in a few minutes later. Her skin is startlingly white in contrast to a massive bruise on her cheek, the color of sunsets.
“Fuck Jo, what happened to you?” Dean asks despite his original decision to keep her out of his life.
Jo scowls. “I fell,” she replies in a dangerous voice, looking pointedly at Sam, who doesn't even glance up from his half-eaten breakfast.
Dean can't believe his brother would hit a girl plain out like that. The shit is seriously hitting the fan and he knew he couldn't do a thing about it until he had a chance to talk with Sam alone. Ever since they saw that spirit a little less than three weeks ago, Sam hasn't been himself. “Sorry,” Dean offers, knowing its not nearly enough.
“Here Jo, sit down,” Bobby says, pulling out a chair for her. “Eat something.” He sets out a plate then motions for Dean to follow him out of the room.
“I don't know what the hell is wrong with your brother, but you two have to be gone in an hour,” he tells Dean after he shuts the door. Dean's never seen Bobby so mad.
“Don't worry, we'll be gone before you know it,” Dean replies before sticking his head back into the kitchen. “Come on Sammy, time to jet.”
**
“I'm coming with you,” Jo says stubbornly, bag already packed and slung over her shoulder.
Dean laughs. “No way in hell. Bobby doesn't want us anywhere near you.” He glances over Jo's shoulder and out the window. Sam is already waiting in the Impala.
“Either you're letting me come with you or I'll just follow you in one of Bobby's old cars.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Fine, but you're sitting in the back and no talking to Sam. Got it?”
Jo grins then flinches when the bruised skin over her cheek moves. “Got it,” she says.
**
Jo never asks where they are heading, and they never tell her. She just sits in the back and doesn't say a word. Sam's the same. Dean finds the quiet unbearable. He cranks up all his favorite songs and kind of likes the fact no one is going to tell him to turn it down.
The three check into a motel where the only room left has just one bed. “I claim the bed,” Jo says as soon as they enter the room, and it's the first time she's said anything since they stopped at a gas station over three hours ago.
Dean, eager for some social interaction, is willing to put up a fight. “That's not the way it works, honey. You can't just claim it,” he says, dumping his duffel bag on the floor near the door. Sam sits on the couch and turns on the TV, a slight frown on his face. The brothers haven't had a minute alone to talk yet. Dean knows Sam probably hates that Jo tagged along. “We'll flip a coin,” Dean tells Jo.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Do it.”
Dean grins and digs a quarter out of his back pocket. “Heads you get the bed, tails Sammy does.”
Jo raises an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted the bed.”
He shrugs and smirks. “Nah. I'm not a selfish guy.” He swears he hears Sam snort.
Dean tosses the coin. “Heads. Bed goes to the lady.” He pockets the coin.
“Sam can have it. I'll take the couch,” Jo says with a small smile.
Dean looks at her like she's crazy. “Whatever. Hear that Sammy? Bed's yours,” he says and plops down on the couch beside his brother. Sam grunts then flicks off the TV and gets into the bed. “Guess it's time for bed,” Dean comments.
“Can I talk to you for a second, Dean?” Jo asks. Dean cocks an eyebrow. “Outside,” she adds.
He glances at Sam, who looks to be already asleep. “Yeah alright.”
The two go out onto the balcony. Jo leans over the rail and says, “Where are we going?”
“I don't know,” Dean replies honestly.
Jo sighs. “How can you not know?”
“I just don't.”
“Aren't you guys hunting something?”
“We ain't hunting anything-” He says and Jo frowns questioningly. “-Comes to us.”
**
Jo was comfortable enough on the couch, but sleep wouldn't come. Dean was having trouble on the floor too; tossing and turning every five seconds. She could tell Sam was awake too. The air in the cramped motel room was heavy, thicker. Something was off.
Dean suddenly grunts and sits up, seeming to have given up on sleep. He meets Jo's eyes but instead speaks to Sam: “Sammy, you awake? She's here, I think.”
“I can feel her,” Sam says softly, almost childlike.
“Who?” Jo asks, confused.
Both the brothers' eyes are focused past Jo. The window. She sits up and looks. A flickering pure white light grows to fill most of the room. Jo squints. A woman with wavy blond hair wearing a long white dress appears in the center of the light. She's so beautiful. Jo knows she's dead though.
“Jess?” Sam says, eyes wet. He's waited a long week for her. He was starting to believe he and Dean just imagined her the first few times. Jess's ghost smiles and nods.
With Jo pretty much right next to Jess, Dean can see why Sam hates Jo now. With their matching blond hair and all that glowing light, they look almost the same. It hurts Sam to see Jo alive when all he sees of his dead girlfriend is her ghost.
Sam gets out of the bed and reaches out for Jess. Dean thinks Sam is probably the only man who likes being haunted. It's sick. They need to salt and burn her bones. As if Sam will ever go for that plan.
Dean motions for Jo to come sit with him on the floor. “That Sam's dead girlfriend?” Jo whispers. He nods. “How long has she been haunting him?”
He shrugs. “First time was about three weeks ago. This is the fourth time,” he pauses, “That I know of.”
“Must be hard,” Jo says, not know what else to say.
“Sammy refuses to take care of it. I mean, I'd do it, but I think it's something he has to do.”
Jo watches Sam. “I think you're right.”
The light suddenly disappears and Sam's soft sobbing fills the suddenly quiet room.
**
Against Sam's wishes, Dean is driving them to California. They stop to take care of what should be a quick salt and burn, but Dean's careless because he's too busy keeping an eye on Jo and Sam. Dean watches as his brother and Jo fight side by side, backing each other up. They shoot quick smiles at each other, and he feels like he's witnessing something intimate, but he knows that can't be right. The two forgive each other through the simple act of fighting a common enemy.
Something sharp plunges into his back. “Fuck!” Should be focusing. His knees buckle from the sudden pain. Damn ghost found the weakest link.
“Dean!” Jo hurries over to him while Sam's shotgun bullet connects with the almost transparent ghost. She pulls the ax out of his back with one steady tug.
Sam yells, “Jo, the bones!” Reminding her of what needs to be done.
“Dean, lighter!” Jo says, waiting for him to pass her his.
“Use mine, quick!” Sam tosses his to her.
Within a minute, it's all over. Hungry flames eating away at old bone, the soft fizzing of salt and magic.
**
Back at the motel, Dean takes of his shirt. His back is throbbing with pain but he refuses to go to a hospital. He doesn't care much for hospitals, unless it's for Sammy. His back is a bloodied mess. Sam helps him to lay stomach down on the bed. Jo gets out her first aid kit.
Dean closes his eyes as Jo and Sam work on his back. They work in silence and he almost falls asleep. Jo touches his arm. “Where's this from?”
Dean opens his eyes to see what she's looking at. His scar. It's a new one, still white and fleshy. “Motherfuckin' kid with a swiss army knife,” he tells her but doesn't elaborate. Just closes his eyes again.
Jess's ghost doesn't come that night.
**
It's dark when the three approach Jess's grave. Sam walks ahead, and Dean lets him. It's clear that he needs time alone with her remains before they help her move on. He looks over at Jo and her face is still and unreadable.
Sam kneels by the gravestone, tracing his fingers over the words. Her name. Dean holds a shovel out for his brother to take. “Let's do this,” he says with what he hopes is an encouraging smile.
The brothers dig and Jo sits on the wet grass, telling them a story she heard from another hunter at the Roadhouse. Dean can tell she's trying to lighten the mood, make it easier for Sam, but it doesn't look like it's working. Sam's quiet and intent only on the shovel in his hands and the soil beneath his boots.
They've dug a million holes like this before, and they finish quickly. Dean kind of feels like he should have done something to make this one different. Sam stands over the grave, fingering the pouch of salt. “Ready?” Dean asks. Sam just shakes his head, refusing.
Jo lets out a soft gasp when Jess's ghost appears. It seems like Jess knows what's going to happen. She just gives Sam a bittersweet smile and nods once.
“I can't do this,” Sam says, “Jess... I can't.”
Jo moves to stand between the brothers. “Come on, Sam. I know you can do it.”
Sam doesn't look away from Jess. “No.”
Dean takes his lighter out of his pocket. “Please Sammy. You gotta move on. That's what she wants.”
“I can't move on or that'll mean she's really gone.” Sam sniffs and Dean feels his stomach drop. Sam looks so young.
Jo says a little harshly, “Sam, you have your brother and he'll do everything possible to help you, and you know it. But this is something you have to do. You need to be strong and move on. Stop being a baby about this and do something yourself for once!”
Dean's eyes widen at Jo's bold words, but it works. Sam glances over at Dean. “Give me the damn lighter.” Sam looks at Jess one last time.
End.
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