Title: You Have One Unheard Message

Warnings/Spoilers: Through 5.22 for SPN, entire series for JoA.

Summary: Written for this birthday prompt for Liliaeth - Joan of Arcadia/Supernatural, Joan has a message for Dean, but Dean's not so sure he wants to take it.

AN: I might revisit this verse, given my love of Joan/Supernatural crossovers, but it'll be a while if I do.

The car was a battered piece of crap that Dean wouldn't have spared a glance on a year ago. Now it sat there mocking him, the engine refusing to turn over despite the work that had been done on it. Maybe it was cursed or haunted. The retired hunter wouldn't put it past the damned thing. Cars had been known to take on attributes of their former owners from time to time. Hell, the book 'Christine' was based on a true story.

Its owner was waiting patiently in the office, a stack of folders in her lap that she was carefully reading even as she hummed along to whatever song was playing on her ipod. Dean sighed and went to tell her the bad news.

She took it surprisingly well, though he supposed if she'd been driving the old Toyota for long she had gotten used to car-related disappointment. Once they took care of the paperwork, he gave her a ride to the car rental place a few miles down the road.

He'd learned long ago not to turn on the radio with a client in the car unless they initiated it, and Ms. Girardi didn't touch the dial, so the drive went by in silence. It wasn't until the car was parked in front of the rental place that she spoke.

"The system is perfect," she said, looking over at him. "The things that happen to us happen for a reason, Dean Winchester. Even when you can't see it."

Shit, shit, Ishit/I. No one in town except Lisa and Ben should know his last name. There was a threat here, and he didn't have a weapon on him, not even a flask of holy water. "Christo," he snarled.

Joan blinked confused, completely human eyes. "I have something I need to tell you," she said.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it. Get out." Dean watched as she slid out of the truck and onto the sidewalk. He purposefully didn't look in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

She was back at the shop the next afternoon, sitting in the waiting room with another stack of folders and her music. Dean had handed over her car to his boss first thing in the morning, still unable to locate the problem. Dave had experienced similar trouble, and as a result he was delegating Dean with the task of telling Ms. Girardi that her car was still not ready.

The young woman accepted this news with the air of one resigned to the inevitable. She scooped up her folders and stood up, ready to head for her rental car. "I still have to talk to you, Dean," she said, looking at him with sorrowful brown eyes.

"I'm busy right now," Dean evaded, escaping into the garage and away from her pity.

That day was Friday. The garage was closed for the weekend, so Dean went almost three days before seeing her again. He spent that time with Lisa and Ben and the Impala, relaxing in the comfortable balm of his newfound family. Ben had a cross-country meet on Saturday, and Dean and Lisa went to cheer him on. On Sunday he did routine maintenance on the Impala, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he looked over at the passenger seat and saw Ben instead of Sam. And then it was Monday, back to school and work, and at 4:30 in the afternoon Joan took her usual seat in the office area with the omnipresent stack of folders.

Dean would have happily stayed out in the garage, but there was absolutely nothing for him to do out there. Dave was still trying to fix the piece of crap Toyota and he was avoiding paperwork by delegating it to Dean. There weren't many garages in the area who were willing to hire someone with absolutely no traceable work history, even with the Impala as his resume, so Dean sucked it up and went into the office.

Joan remained focused on her paperwork for a long time, and Dean eventually managed to concentrate on invoices for a while before she spoke up. "Are you ready to hear what I need to tell you?"

Dean gritted his teeth and longed for a drink. He hadn't touched anything since his first night at Lisa's house, at her request, but right now he could really use something to take the edge off. "Go ahead."

She looked startled. "Really? Huh, I thought you were going to put me off again. Wow. OK, so here goes." She cleared her throat and put down the file in her hands. "Sam has not been forgotten. You will see your brother again, and when you do everything will go back into place."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean growled.

Joan shrugged. "I don't know what it means, just that you needed to know. And also, you're supposed to call Bobby. It's his birthday this weekend."

"Who told you all this?"

She smiled, and Dean was startled at the difference it made. "God told me. He said you'd handle everything that's coming a little better if you had some warning."

Dave came to the door at that moment, halting Dean's angry retort. "You'll never believe this," he said, grinning at the young woman. "Your car is working. You shouldn't have any problems now."

"Oh, good." Joan gathered up her armload of folders and headed out into the garage with Dean's boss, leaving Dean behind to think about what she'd said.

Dave came back in after a few minutes. "I'm going to follow with her car over to the rental place. Want to close up and meet me there?"

Dean nodded. "What was wrong with the car?"

"It was the weirdest damned thing. Remember that sensor you replaced the first day we had it in here? The computer didn't realize it had been fixed. All I had to do was reboot the stupid thing and it relayed the message like it was supposed to."