Your Halo Slipping Down

(Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to Eric Kripke and the CW, no infringement intended)

Pairing: Jo/Sam

Setting: Alternate Season 4 (Spoilers if you haven't seen the end)

Rating: M for violence, strong language, and slight innuendo

It stunk of rotten wood and 30 year old whiskey as Joanna Beth Harvelle stood at the mouth of the gaping hole in the ground. The blonde stood alone as her hair danced in the cool breeze, yellow gold strands slicing across her delicate, beautiful face. It was a relatively beautiful day, but she couldn't enjoy it. Not now, not with him gone. Dean Winchester was the best hunter that Jo ever knew, and now he was dead, and she didn't know what to do. She turned her head toward the tall form that walked along side of her; his breath stunk of whiskey and pain. She looked up into Sam Winchester's eyes as he slammed the head of the shovel into the Earth. They haven't really been on the best of terms since that night in Minnesota, but this wasn't the time to get touchy. She looked to the right at the sight of the body that was covered with a tattered bed sheet. This wasn't how things were supposed to end. The blonde lowered her head toward the ground, a tear trickling down her face slowly as she angled her body toward Sam as her pale, slender hand reached out toward him. Her palm made contact to Sam's upper arm as he slowly turned his head toward her. Things would never be the same with out him to guide them. Then, silently, Sam stepped from Jo and moved toward Dean's body. Bobby approached slowly, his hat shoved farther down on his head as the bill hid his worn out, pained expression. The blonde had offered to help, but Bobby told her that they could handle it without her. Jo watched in silent agony as the two grown men lifted their follow comrade from the ground and lowered him into a make-shift coffin they fashioned at Bobby's house. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Jo stifled a sob as they then placed the lid over him and started to hammer it down over him. She watched as silent, large tears streamed down her face at the sight of Sam's own tears. It wasn't fair, things were supposed to end for him yet, he had so much left to finish.

After a few hours, they managed to pull themselves together long enough to actually get Dean into the ground. It fit just right and that was when the two men began to shovel the soil back into the hole over Dean's lifeless body. Jo always thought that Dean would be the last fighter down. His swagger made it seem that way, almost invincible to an impressionable young woman. Puppy love it could have been categorized under. However, Jo wasn't as young and green as they had just assumed. She had wanted to prove herself to the eldest Winchester, to show him that she wasn't just another face in a bar. A part of her had felt like he understood that, that he felt anything, something. But now she would never know, never know if he felt even the slightest for her.

Jo sat on a worn, wooden chair as she gripped Dean's shoulder tightly. She had a pair of larger tweezers moving inside of his wound as she attempted to remove a bullet. Dean groaned loudly and she looked to him harshly, her blonde locks falling into her face.

"Don't be a baby!" She shouted to him and continued to dig. Dean gritted his teeth, gripping a whiskey bottle in his hand. She continued to go as he continued to protest to the agony that it brought him.

"God!" He exclaimed as he lowered his head, looking at the amber liquid in front of him. It was looking good right about now and he was about to take a drink before Jo started to respond better.

"All right, almost – all right, got it, got it!" The sound of bullet hitting rubbing alcohol and a glass shot glass sounded and Dean groaned again and took a long drink from the whiskey bottle in his hand. Jo reached into the first aid kit and pulled out the bandage. She looked to Dean before looking to the wound as she began to dress it.

"You're a butcher." Dean whined as he set the bottle down with a grunt. The alcohol burned, but it was a welcomed sensation. He was have a less than stellar day, and having a little blonde thing yank a bullet out of his body wasn't on his priority list.

"You're welcome." Jo said with a deeply condescending tone as she ran her fingers over the bandage and began tapping it down to secure it to him. Frustrated and in a hurry, Dean turned to Jo with a disgruntled expression and said,

"All right, are we done?" He snarled and Jo looked up at him with a less than pleased look. Dean knew, deep down, that this wasn't a priss. Jo wasn't the type of girl to just let a man walk all over her. It was one of the things he appreciated about the girl. She had a fire inside of her that no one could take away, not even him.

"Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death." She retorted and Dean looked away, knowing she had a point. Even though he enjoyed her spirit, she was still a major pain in his ass. "So, how did you know that he was possessed?" She asked, a thought washing over her. She was thinking about what Sam had said to her before, and she wasn't sure if she should trust his words or not.

"I didn't. I just knew that it couldn't have been him." He said, looking off into space before looking back to her. Jo nodded slowly, the thought still roaming inside that pretty head of hers. She then looked back to his wound as she applied medical tape his flesh.

"Hey, Dean," Jo started, her tone questioning as she finished him up. Dean looked to her and responded with,

"Yeah?" He then moved on to take another drink from the bottle of alcohol before she asked her question.

"I know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth, too?" She asked and smoothed the bandage ever so gently. Dean looked at it before looking back to the blonde before him.

"Uh, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head." He noticed the disappointed look on her pale, beautiful face. What was she getting at? His curiosity was piqued as she continued on to finish dressing his wound. "Why do you ask?" He asked before she finally shook her head and responded with an emotionless,

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

"I can't say it more plain than this –- you try and follow me, and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be." Dean said, wanting to protect her. He wasn't used to these types of feelings, especially when he knew that it would compromise things. Jo was a beautiful girl, but that was just it. Why ruin the beauty with the type of work he was in? As he told he a while back, she had options, and this sure has hell shouldn't be one of them. Jo looked to him as he started to leave and she stamped her foot, despite being defeated.

"Wait." She said simply and looked to him as he stopped and turned toward her. She reached for a bottle of painkillers before handing them over to the hunter. Dean took them and looked back to her. "Here. Take these, they'll help with the pain." She looked up at Dean as he stared down at the bottle then looked to the floor. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him for the rest of the time.

"Thanks. I'll call you later, okay?" He said and with that, the eldest Winchester strolled out of the bar, leaving Jo there. She stood there, silent for a lingering moment before she slowly and sadly said,

"No you won't."

And he never did, as it was quite obvious. Jo had tried her hardest to move on, just being another shadow on the radar for the hunters around her. She acted and was treated like any other hunter in the world. She did her job and she was pretty damn good at it. Eventually, Jo started to meet up with Bobby more and more, getting cases from him when he couldn't take them. She would get regular reports on the boys as she continued to have a safe distance between them. Although unbeknownst to them, she had been around on a few of their jobs, watching them. It was a little odd of her, but she just wanted to help. Then, she received that heart-wrenching phone call from Bobby, letting her know that Dean didn't make it out of this latest one unscathed. He had told her that her help was needed in prepping him. And now, here she stood, the night had fallen and the rain had began. Bobby slammed the head of the shovel against the dirt pile and Sam moved to stand beside Jo, his hair hanging in his face as he stared down at the grave. Bobby then walked toward the pair and stood off to the side. No words were spoken as they just stood over the plot. The rain poured down on them as Jo's blonde hair clung to her slender neck. This was actually goodbye now, as she stared hard at the ground. He never called, she thought in her head as her face slowly transformed to that of a broken woman in love. A sob escaped her lips as she dipped her head down, the rain rolling down her hair and down her neck. She sniffled, looking up to see Sam was in the same state, sobbing like a lost child. She was still a bit put off by him, as any woman would be knowing the situation, but regardless of their past, Jo reached toward Sam and took his hand in hers. Their wet fingers tangled together as she placed her other hand on his arm. Sam broke down as he lowered his head in sorrow. He didn't know what to do now, without Dean, what point was there to the job? Sam looked down at Jo's comfort and welcomed it. They weren't close, but this wasn't the time to break each other, it wasn't the time shout, it was just time to remember. Sam's hand gripped hers tightly as the rain poured and the thunder roared. Their hands stayed tightly together, the rain rolling off them as they set in a large fist together. Jo stared at the grave in front of her, her brown eyes staring hard at it. What was in store for those he left behind? Where did they go from here? Then, Jo's eyes slid shut as she let her face crumble into utter, complete sadness as she thought about how empty the world felt.