Back From Hell

By: Runway 1313

Pairing: Dean/ Jo

Disclaimer: If you recognize it I don't own it, though I would love to.

Rated: M

He waited in the dark like a stalker, like a criminal. Standing in the shadows by the door he watched and waited. The bar door opened every so often, the soft light illuminating his face, and throwing it back into the shadows as it closed. If anyone had been watching him, if anyone had noticed they would have seen the depth of pain in his eyes. They would have seen the true meaning of hell.

Dean's finger nails still had traces of dirt from digging his way out of his grave. He didn't know how it was possible that he was here breathing in the cool night air. One moment he was in the fiery heat of hell, pain burning deep down in his belly, the next he was clawing his way out of a wooden coffin. From that moment, to this one, was kind-of a blur. Something had compelled him forward, to this bar, to this place. He had to figure out why and how he was back. He knew he should be looking for Sam, or Bobby. He knew that he shouldn't be here. But he had to see her.

He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd seen her last. He knew he hadn't said good bye, he couldn't that would have been too hard, too unfair to her.

Through the dirty window he could see her serving beers. The memory of the taste of beer made his mouth water and his stomach growl. He almost gave in and went into the bar. It had been a long time since Dean had had a beer. There was no beer in hell, no liquid to soothe dry cracked lips. Dean lifted his hand to his lips; they were moist and soft, no cracks. In fact there was no remnants of the man he was in hell. No outward signs anyway. The scars on the surface had disappeared but Dean could feel them burning his soul.

Dean stood outside the bar all night. The only thing to mark the passage of time was the parking lot slowly emptying as the night deepened and customers stumbled home drunk. Eventually the only cars left belonged to the staff. Dean could see her in the bar sweeping the floor, hips swaying to the music from the jukebox. He could hear the haunting strings of Kansas' 'Dust in the Wind'. He felt his mouth move in an odd fashion; he raised his hand to touch his lips and realized his lips were curved in a soft smile. It had been so long since he last smiled. There was no smiling in hell.

As he looked up again he could see her moving to the back of the bar with the garbage. He would see her now. He moved swiftly around to the back of the bar. As he rounded the corner he could just see her throwing the garbage into the dumpster. He caught her off guard, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her into the darkness. He blocked her panicked attack easily as he backed her against the wall. He covered her mouth as she was about to scream.

He waited. He waited for her to calm down, for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. He waited to see the recognition in her eyes. It came slowly, first there was rage at being man-handled, then there was a spark of recognition, and then disbelief, and pain and then finally there was a softness that Dean acknowledged as longing.

He took his hand away from her mouth sure she wouldn't yell. Inching his face closer to hers he looked deep into her eyes.

"Jo…" he breathed against her lips. Then he captured her lips in a soul searing, gut wrenching kiss. As she gasped in surprise Dean took advantage of the opening and deepened the kiss, tasting every crevice of Jo's mouth with his tongue. Jo responded in kind, she pushed her tongue into Dean's mouth and devoured him.

Dean could feel Jo relaxing into their embrace, he slowly released her pinned arms and his hands travelled to her hips pulling her closer to him. Dean was revelling in the kiss as Jo moved her hands up his arms wrapping one arm around his neck and the other… Dean felt a stab of pain across his cheek and jerked away from Jo.

"Son of a bitch!" He put his hand to his cheek and felt the hot liquid that he knew was blood. Looking at Jo he saw in her hand a small silver knife. She had a wild look in her eyes.

"Jo, it's me." Dean said.

"It can be… You're dead… I saw your body… It's not possible…" And suddenly her hands were everywhere, his face, his neck, and his shoulders.

"It's me. I don't know how but I'm here." Dean answered kissing the inside of her palm. "If it'll make you feel better I'll drink some holy water." Dean said with a lopsided grin.

"Dean!" There were tears in Jo's eyes as she threw her arms around his neck holding him tight never wanting to let go. Dean ran his hands up and down her back loving her soft feminine curves. There was nothing soft in hell, and nothing that smelled as good as Jo did. Dean inhaled deeply, using Jo's scent to anchor him to this reality. "But how? Are you all right? Do you remember what…?" Dean silenced her with a finger over her lips.

"Shhhhh… No more words. Not right now." Dean said. And that's when Jo saw it. His eyes had changed, they were no longer the confident cocky eyes of a hunter, but the eyes of a man who was lost, scared and in pain. Dean was desperate for a soft touch, desperate to forget the pain, and Jo could feel it.

"Ok." Jo took Deans hand and lead him up the back stairs to the small apartment she had above the bar. She guided him through the kitchen and living room to the back room. In the light she could see the dirt streaks across his cheek and forehead mingling with the blood from the cut she had given him. Looking down at his hands Jo could see the dirt under his nails, and the bloody scrapes on his finger tips. She shuddered realizing how he got those.

Dean watched Jo turn, still holding her hand, reluctant to let go, reluctant to lose his anchor. Jo turned back and looked at there joined hands.

"I'll be back," she said looking him in the eye so he could know it was the truth. "I'm just going to turn on the shower, ok?" Dean nodded but didn't let go of her hand. Jo smiled softly and pulled him with her towards the bathroom. Once in side the small room Jo bent over and turned the hot water to max. Steam began to fill the room. Jo helped Dean to remove his shirt, and began to unbuckle his belt as Dean toed-off his boots. When he was naked Jo guided him under the hot shower spray.

Feeling the hot water wash over him Dean closed his eyes appreciatively. How long had it been since his last shower? There were no showers in hell. Dean felt Jo's small hands on his back as she joined him in the shower.

Jo ran her hands up and down Dean's back as she washed it with soap, checking all the while to make sure he was in one piece. She turned him gently to face her, continuing her inspection of his chest and arms. She remembered his body the day he died, the image flashed in her mind. The torn clothing and flesh, blood everywhere, and most of all, the vacant look in his eyes. But now his skin was perfect, not a bullet wound or stab mark. The only blemish was a large hand print burned into his shoulder. Jo traced the imprint and felt its raised ridges. She wanted to ask what had happened but Dean's eyes were closed and he looked relaxed.

Next she washed his hands, gently wiping away the dried blood. When they were clean she raised his hand to her mouth and kissed each of his finger tips. Jo ran her hands up his chest to his face washing away the blood and dirt there. It was then that Jo noticed that not all the water running down Dean's face was from the shower.

Dean knew that Jo could see his tears but he didn't care, it was a miracle that he was crying, it had been so long. There were no tears in hell. No such release in hell. Dean held Jo around the hips watching her breast sway as she washed his hair. She was beautiful, all soft curves and blond hair. When his hair was rinsed he pulled her closer needing to feel her body moulded to his.

They stood under the water like that until it began to run cold. Then Jo stepped out of the shower never letting go of Dean's hand. They dried each other off, caressing here and there as they went. It began slowly at first, the heat that is. Dean could feel it curling through his stomach spreading to his limbs, and down towards his cock. It was a different heat then hell; this was a slow comforting burn, not the scorching searing painful heat of hell.

Jo could feel it too as Dean caressed her hip, the small of her back, the side of her breast. Her breathing was coming faster, she was almost panting she was so hot. Hot for him. Desperate to touch him, to be touched by him. She needed to feel that he was alive, that this wasn't a dream.

Without a word Dean's arm snaked around Jo's hips and he lifted her wrapping her legs around his hips. Jo wrapped her arms around Dean's neck and stared into the depths of his green eyes. Leaning in Jo kissed him on his smooth lips, he kiss was gentle and sweet, but Dean's response was fierce and desperate. His tongue swept inside Jo's mouth devouring her like a man starved. Dean's hands were on her back pressing Jo as close as he could in their position.

Jo was too wrapped up in the kiss to realize that they were moving until she felt the cool sheets against her back as Dean laid her down. His hot lips moved down her neck licking and kissing everywhere they touched. Jo arched her head back to give him better access. She ran her fingers through his hair showing him where she liked to be kissed best.

Dean's head was spinning from the heat that threatened to consume him. He grabbed Jo's hands and yanked them above her head pinning them there.

"This isn't real…" He breathed against her heated neck. "It can't be… I'm not really here."

"Yes you are Dean. This is very much real." Jo said emotion clear in her voice. Desperate to sooth the raw pain in Dean's voice.

"No…"

"Yes, Dean you're safe now." Jo said as she kissed his cheek, the only skin she could reach with her arms pinned above her head.

Dean felt Jo's cool lips against his fevered cheek and knew she had to be right. There was nothing cool in hell. Turning his head he crushed his lips to Jo's, feeling the cool flesh of her arms as his hands trailed down to her shoulders and then her sides.

Jo shivered in pleasure as Dean's hands ran down her sides and gripped her hips just a little too hard. His lips left her mouth and kissed its way down to her collar bone where he bit down causing Jo to hiss at the pain. Hearing her gasp in pain Dean licked the area to sooth the sting. Dean moved down further trailing kisses as he went until he could capture one beautifully round breast in his mouth, flicking the nipple with his tongue.

Jo moaned deep in her throat as Dean sucked on her breast, curls of pleasure shooting down to her groined. Her hands grabbed at his short hair pulling him closer and arching into the feeling of his hot mouth.

"Dean…" Jo gasped out as he moved to her other breast giving it as much if not more vigorous attention.

Dean heard Jo gasp his name and it was like an electric shock right to his cock, and he swelled. His need to be inside her smooth heat was unbearable. He needed her to be ready, now! Dean ran his hand down Jo's thighs to her knees and pulled her legs up until her feet rested flat on the bed. He kissed his way down her stomach to one hip, licking and nipping as he went. His actions elicited small gasps and moans from Jo making him that much harder.

Jo felt Dean run his tongue along the inside of her thigh and her hands gripped the sheets tightly, opening and closing reflexively.

As Dean kissed his way back up the inside of Jo's thigh he could smell he desire, smell her heat and he had to taste her.

Jo cried out at the first touch of Dean's tongue to her clit. The moist heat was overwhelming. But he didn't stop, his tongue moved slowly up and down tasting every inch of her pussy. Jo moaned and arched her back, so much so that Dean gripped her hips firmly in his big hands.

Dean didn't let up his torture as Jo writhed on the bed. He couldn't have even if he had wanted too. She was like a drug and he couldn't get enough. She tasted so sweet, her skin was so soft and as his tongue pushed inside of her he knew that she would be like a vice around his cock.

Jo was panting now moaning Dean's name. She was so close to cumming her toes were curling and she couldn't catch her breath. Just when she thought she was going to go over the edge Dean pulled away, but before she could utter one syllable in protest he was entering her swiftly with such force the bed banged against the wall. Jo saw starts.

Dean could tell Jo was getting close to orgasm and so before she could react he moved up her body quickly and plunged inside her tight heat. Dean saw stars. The heat that was nothing like hell was overwhelming him. He pulled himself and Jo up so that they were in a sitting position burying him even deeper in her velvety pussy. Dean could feel her muscles flutter and contract around his long shaft making him moan her name.

"Jo…" She felt Dean's hot breath against the crook of her neck. In this position with Jo on top she was fully impaled by Dean's huge cock. He stretched her in a way that was both painful and pleasurable. They fit together snugly, and Jo took comfort in that. One of Dean's arms was like a vice around her hips and the other ran the length of her back, his hand cupping the back of her neck. As Jo felt Dean's grip relax just a little she took the opportunity to lift herself slightly off Dean's shaft, moving upwards but not removing the tip.

Dean sucked in his breath as Jo moved up his shaft to the tip. She lifted her head and locked eyes with him as she descended again painfully slowly. Dean could feel her tight heat slowly swallowing his cock and he found it harder to breath. The look in Jo's eyes was pure pleasure, pure happiness. As she moved up and down his shaft she brought her hand up to his face wiping moisture from his cheek. Dean was crying but not in pain and not in sadness but in joy and happiness.

Jo wiped the tears from Dean's cheeks and kissed him passionately. She couldn't imagine what Dean had gone through in hell, she didn't want to. Instead she concentrated on the feeling of Dean pushing up inside of her. Her head fell back as their angle changed and he was hitting her sweet spot.

"Dean…" She breathed.

With her head back Jo breasts were pushed forward and Dean could feel them as they brushed against his face. He captured one nipple in his mouth and sucked hard. Jo muscles clenched more tightly around him and he moaned. He increased their passing knowing that he was getting close to cumming. His grip on her hips was impossibly tight as he took over and pushed up inside of Jo.

"Dean, yes! Yes! I'm gonna cum!" She moaned in his ear, her hands clawing at his back. Dean could feel her breathing increase until she was almost hyperventilating. And then Jo was screaming his name as she tightened around him. Dean could feel the rush of liquid in her pussy, and he pushed harder and faster searching for his own release.

Jo captured Dean's mouth with her own, every part of her body tingling, and wave after wave of pleasure crashing through her as Dean continued to pound into her prolonging her orgasm. She could feel how close he was and wanted to push him over the edge. She kissed him passionately her tongue duelling with his. Pulling away, gasping for breath she looked him in the eye.

Looking Jo in the eye Dean could see her happiness. Her skin was flushed her lips swollen from kissing her hair dishevelled, but she was happy, happy to be with him. And then he was cumming hard inside of her. They were still moving together as his orgasm moved through his body, tightening every muscle, standing every nerve on end. Dean could hardly breathe with the force of it. His grip on Jo was impossibly tight he knew that she would have bruises in the morning, but he didn't care, he couldn't lose his grip on his anchor.

Dean finally stopped moving and Jo relaxed against him, but his grip was still tight. Every nerve in his body was alive and acutely aware of Jo's body wrapped around his. Dean felt alive. He knew this had to be real. There were no orgasms in hell. No release. No pleasure.

Dean carefully lay their entwined bodies down on the bed. Jo's hands caressing every inch of his skin she could reach. Slowly his muscles relaxed his whole body limp.

"Jo?" He whispered.

"Yeah, Dean, I'm here." She answered kissing the top of his head. His head was against her chest, his ear to heart listening to the soft drum as it slowed after their love making.

"I'm really here." Dean whispered in wonder. He was really out of hell, he had been saved.

"Yeah you are."

The End