Okay, okay, I can't stop myself. Here's a new multi-chapter fic.

I don't own a damn thing, I just love playing with other peoples toys.

She had never noticed, on a normal day, how soft her mother's arms felt wrapped around her. How even though over the stench of blood, she could still smell the fabric softener that Ellen had used. It smelled like cotton and fresh air. The thought never seemed to break through, except for on days like these.

Her hand was firmly planted to her side, hot sticky liquid seeping through her fingers, the last thing that she remembered thinking was how comfortable she felt in her mother's arms. How it was okay if this was the last thing she remembered. She'd be happy with that, at peace.

"I'm right here sweetie, I won't leave you." A voice choked with emotion erupted through her thoughts.

The words had reached her ears, but they didn't seem to make sense. Just noise being thrown into a silent room. They held no meaning.

She nodded feebly, not able to answer even if she could understand the words, leaning her full weight into her mother's side. Her mind started to cloud over as she fought to keep her thoughts racing, awake. She was hanging on to consciousness by a thin thread.

The sound of metal chains slammed against the linoleum floor.

The chirping of a bird caused her eyelids to flutter and a dull throbbing began to beat in her temples. She raised her hand to bring it to her aching head only to feel a sharp pain in her forearm. Her eyes shot open, the memory of a hell hound tearing into her side flashed before her, the IV in her arm pulled again and a drop of blood seeped out from the bottom of the needle. She could hear her heart beat racing from the monitor next to her and she began to panic. Where the fuck am I? She took desperate glances around the room for anything familiar, anything at all.

She could see her clothes neatly folded in a large zip lock baggie on a chair, no doubt they were torn to shreds and completely unwearable. Her messenger back was placed neatly on top of it, a styrofoam cup sat on the table next to the chair. Someone was here, long enough to have a cup of something.

She attempted to push herself up to a sitting position and almost cried out loud at the pain that shot up her side. She bit her lip to muffle her groans as she leaned back down and begrudgingly used the button on the bed to sit it up. At her new angle she was able to see out the window.

In the distance she could see a few tall buildings but nothing looked that much taller than ten stories, she must be somewhere in the Midwest she concluded. She had seen that skyline before, she was sure of it, she just couldn't put her finger on where.

It looked nice out. The sun was shining, big fluffy clouds were floating innocently through the bright ocean blue sky. It seemed like one of those days you just want to lay back in the grass and soak in the sun's rays. Jo let herself get distracted by the sky, memories of running through fields of golden wheat, her bouncing blonde curls getting tangled in the wind. Strong arms lifting her up into the sky above the wheat.

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes clear of days that had long passed and resumed her assessment of her surroundings.

There was a table to her right, a phone and a small pad of paper was it's only occupant. Jo reached over the bed rails for the pad, only able to get the tips of her nails on the edges of the paper. She ground her teeth as she maneuvered her body as close to the right side of the bed as she could. She was only able to make it about an inch before she layed back against the bed, panting for breath as the searing pain scorched up her left side. "Fuck." She muttered as the pain began to ease.

She took a few deep breaths before she reached for the pad again. She smiled as the tips of her fingers finally made purchase on the small pad. She pulled it out in front of her and read the small emblem watermarked on the page. Lawrence Memorial Hospital. Why am I in Lawrence? She was in Carthage when she... died? How did I not die?

Jo looked around the side of the bed for the call button. She strained her ears for the sound of foot steps immediately upon pressing the button.

She didn't have to wait long, There must be a nurse's station close by, she thought absently as a middle aged woman in light blue scrubs pushed through the door.

"Well hello there darlin'." She greeted Jo in her too chipper light southern drawl.

Jo opened her mouth to respond but it felt as if her throat was coated in sand. She brought her hand to her neck motioning to the water across the room.

"Yes, of course," The nurse nodded enthusiastically answering Jo's silent request, "Your throat will be a bit dry for awhile." She said handing Jo a cup of water.

"Thank you." Jo croaked. She took a few more sips before she attempted to speak again. "How long have I been out?"

"Just a few days," The nurse shrugged, "With your injuries we were expecting you to be out a lot longer."

For the first time since waking up Jo looked down at her side with a grimace. She could still see the blood dripping a trail on the dirty linoleum floor of the hardware store, an ace bandage seeping with the angry red liquid wrapped around her waist. Carthage, her brain shouted at her. She looked up at the nurse with furrowed brows, "How did I get here?"

The nurse chewed on her lips nervously, "Well it was awful strange."

"What do you mean 'strange'?" Jo cocked her head.

"Well, it was right after that meteor shower the other day. A man found you on the side of the road and brought you in. You were in real bad shape." She glanced down at Jo's side, "The doctor will explain that. Don't you remember?"

Jo shook her head. "No. I don't. A man brought me in?" The nurse nodded. "Did he leave a name?"

"No, he didn't," She said pursing her lips. "He just brought you in to the emergency room and left."

Jo nodded, "Did you see what he looked like?"

"No, I'm sorry, sweetie, I wasn't in the ER that night."

Jo nodded again, taking in all the information she could, "What's the date today?"

"May 20th."

Jo bowed her head, tears instantly pricking at her eyes, "I know this gonna sound weird, but what year?"

The nurse watched Jo for a moment, as if she was almost afraid to answer.

"Please," Jo begged finally meeting the woman's eyes.

"2013." She whispered.

"Oh god." Jo took a deep breath, fighting tooth and nail not to break down in front of this woman. "Okay." She took another deep breath, I need a plan. "I need you to do me a favor."

The nurse nodded, watching Jo's reaction warily.

"Is there a phone in that bag over there? Or a small address book?"

The nurse went over to the messenger bag, about to open it, when Jo shouted to stop.

"On second thought, why don't you just give me the bag?" She tried her best at a sincere smile, making a mental list of every illegal weapon she could have in that bag.

Thankfully, the nurse smiled back, "Of course," She said handing the bag over to Jo, "I'll go tell the doctor that you're awake."

"Thanks," Jo waved as the woman left the room. She unzipped the bag so quickly she may have broken it. She grabbed her wallet first, flipping it open, her ID's, credit cards, even the same amount of cash she had died with was in there.

Jo dropped the wallet in her lap, running a shaky hand down her face. Died, I died. She absolved. I was dead for three years. She took another deep breath before she resumed her rifling. She couldn't let herself get distracted, she needed to contact someone, anyone, and she needed to do it fast.

She found her old cell phone and her address book, in the pocket where she kept them. Everything was in her bag. All of it, even things she forgot she packed. That's strange, Jo thought repeating the words the nurse had spoken earlier. She took the phone and address book in her lap and replaced all her other belongings in the bag.

She was trying her best to zipper the bag when a soft knock came from the door.

"Come in." Jo called out though she knew it was unnecessary.

A tall man in a doctor's coat, a stethoscope hanging from his neck, entered the room, his eyes down on the chart in his hands. "Joanna Harvelle?" He asked as he reached the end of her bed.

"That's me."

The doctor nodded, "I'm Dr. Carter."

"Nice to meet you."

"Well, Ms. Harvelle, do you know how you got here?"

"That seems to be the million dollar question." Jo quipped. Seeing the doctor had no funny bone in his body, she cleared her throat and rephrased her answer. "No I don't."

"Okay," He pulled a blood pressure cuff out of his pocket and came around the left side of the bed to take her vitals. "Do you know how old you are?"

Jo did the math quickly in her head, "I'm twenty eight."

"Alright, well your vitals are good, which is surprising. You were brought in with six deep lacerations down your left side. Starting here," He pointed just below her ribcage, "Down to here," He pointed right below her hip bone. "There were four shallower cuts near your collar bone." He took a deep breath and took a step away from the bed. "The lacerations on your side they were extremely deep. Amazingly they did not tear into any of your organs, however you will likely have a very big unappealing scar."

"But I'm okay?" Jo didn't care about scars.

"We'd like to keep you over night for observation but then you can be released."

"So I'm okay?" Jo repeated her question.

"Yes, you can go home, usually means you are okay." Dr. Carter picked up the chart he had walked in with, checked something off and proceeded to walk back out.

Dick. Jo flipped her phone over in her hand, turning it on, praying it would work. It turned on at least, though it wouldn't make any outgoing calls. Jo sighed pulling the phone from the table beside her and into her lap. She balanced the receiver between her shoulder and her ear as she dialed Bobby's number first. The number had been disconnected. Next was Rufus'. That was disconnected too.

Jo dialed her mother's number. Hoping that maybe, just maybe... But it was worthless. The number was no longer in service.

She scrolled through her contacts stopping when she reached the familiar name. "I'll see you on the other side. Probably sooner than later." He chuckled lightly trying to alleviate the tension.

She handed him the rifle, "Make it later?"

He nodded, promising he'd try. That's all she knew he could promise.

Jo dialed the number and three times she got his voice mail. "So help me Dean, if you're dead again, I swear..." She muttered into the message, "It's Jo. I'm at Lawrence Memorial room 203, call me back." She slammed the phone down, leaning back into the bed to stare out the window.

A yellow bird passed by her window and she followed it's path into the sky. The sun was bright and harsh as Jo squinted her eyes, trying to watch the bird. It swerved and dipped into puffy clouds, flapping its wings hard then gliding through air as if it was nothing. Jo supposed to a bird it was nothing. Flying was in their nature.

The phone in her lap rang and yanked her out of her day dream. "Hello?" She asked frantically as she pulled the phone to her ear.

"This better not be a trick."

Jo sighed in relief at the sound of his voice. "It's not. I promise. It's really me."

Silence greeted her on the other side of the phone.

"Come on, Dean." She pleaded.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Ask me something."

"What did you do when we first met?"

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"That's your question?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It's just, you couldn't come up with anything better?" Jo reasoned, "Like the address of that apartment in Philly? Or Bobby's wife's maiden name?"

"Wait, you know Karen's maiden name?"

"Yeah, don't you?"

"Damn it," Dean swore. Jo smiled as she could practically see him stomp his foot now, "Just answer the damn question!"

"I punched you. And you whined like a bitch." She deadpanned.

"Lawrence Memorial?"

"Room 203."

"Alright, I'll be there in a few hours."

"Few hours? Where are you?"

"Long story, I'll see you soon Jo."

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Jo?"

"Could you bring me a change of clothes?"

"What about what you wore there?"

Jo rolled her eyes, he always had to argue, "Cause the ones I have are torn and covered in blood."

"Oh, yeah sure, I guess."

"Gee, thanks. See you soon."

Almost three hours and thirty minutes to the second there was a knock at her door. The door swung open, not waiting for a reply, and Dean Winchester strode into the room. He stopped at the end of her bed studying her. He looked older to her. It had only been three years but something had aged him. He's still gorgeous.

"You're really here?" He asked quietly still scrutinizing her.

"I'm really here." She answered just as quietly.

"I just need to make sure." He reached in his pocket pulling out a small pocket knife and a flask, he came to stand on the left side of the bed. Careful of her injuries he sat near her hip. "Here," He handed her the flask first, which she took a swig from easily, her eyes never leaving his. "One down." He took her hand gently in his and opened the pocket knife. He left a thin line on the palm of her hand. "You check out." He whispered, reaching over and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, resting his hand on her cheek.

"Told ya so." Jo whispered back as she wrapped the corner of the blanket around her hand.

"What happened?" Dean asked, his hand trailing from the side of her face, down her arm, to take her uninjured hand in his.

Jo shrugged, "I don't know, I remember Carthage, and then I woke up here." Dean bowed his head at the mention of Carthage. Even after all this time it still weighed on him. "The nurse said someone found me in the road after the meteor showers."

Dean's head whipped up to look at her.

"What do you know?"

Dean shook his head with a sigh, "Too much. I just don't know how you could be related to it." He watched as his thumb massaged the back of her hand, "I'll tell you one thing though, it's good to see you Harvelle."

Jo smiled her first real smile in what felt like forever, "You too, Winchester."

"When are they letting you out of this place?"

"Tomorrow, I have to stay over night for observation." Jo mocked what Dr. Carter had told her earlier.

Dean nodded, a plan clearly forming in his head. "Okay, I'll come back tomorrow to get you."

"With some clothes?" She smirked noticing that he came into the room empty handed.

Dean smiled back, "Yes, with some clothes." He glanced over his shoulder at the zip lock bag sitting innocently on the chair, "That them?" He asked turning his attention back to Jo.

She bit her lip, nodding.

Dean stood from her bed side and took a step toward the chair. He lifted the bag into his hands turning it over and over. Jo watched him, her brows furrowing, as he examined the bags contents without ever opening the bag.

"Do you know who it was that dropped you off?" He asked quietly looking at her over his shoulder.

"Not a clue, the nurse said a guy brought me into the ER and then left." Jo answered shrugging, "She wasn't in the ER that night so she doesn't even know what he looks like."

"Hm," Dean hummed turning the bag in his hands again before tucking it under his arm, "Mind if I take these?"

"Knock yourself out." Jo waved at him. "Doubt you'll find anything."

"Why's that?" Dean made a move to sit on the edge of her bed again.

"I didn't have anything on me when I died." At the look of confusion on his face, she explained. "It's just when I was going through my bag, everything was in there and then some. All my ID's, all my cash, even my old college library card. But I distinctly remember that I didn't have anything on my person."

"Nothing was missing?"

"No," Jo urged, "Which is weirder than if there was."

Dean regarded the bag in his hands, toying with one of the buttons on her jacket through the thin plastic.

"Oh, hello there." A young petite red headed nurse stepped into the room. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything, but I need to change your dressings."

"No, you're not interrupting." Dean turned to give her his best smirk.

The nurse blushed almost immediately and Jo rolled her eyes, At least some things haven't changed.

The nurse cleared her throat to regain her composure, she turned her attention to Jo, "I'm Annie by the way, I'll be your nurse if you need anything." She turned her gaze on Dean, shutting the door behind her. "Will you be the one taking Ms. Harvelle home?"

"Yeah, tomorrow right?" Dean asked, "Do you know what time?"

"We normally do check outs around one, so if you want to come in around noon we should be able to get her out the door pretty quickly." She moved around to the left side of the bed, "Do you mind if I show you how to clean the wound?" She turned back to Jo, "You could probably do it yourself, but there are some parts that might be a bit hard to reach."

Jo and Dean both nodded, "Alright, what do you need me to do?" Jo asked as Dean stood from the bed and went to stand behind Annie.

Annie grimaced, "Alright, this is going to suck, but I need you to roll on your right side."

"Great," Jo muttered remembering the unbelievable pain she had experienced trying to get the pad of paper.

"I know, honey," Annie said sympathetically, "I'm sorry."

"Here," Dean moved in front of Annie again, "Put your arm around my shoulder." He instructed Jo, she did as he said and he gently slipped his arms underneath her, lifting her gently just enough so she could roll on her right side.

"Thanks," Jo whispered as she let her arm slip from his shoulder, her eyes only left his when he moved to stand at the foot of her bed.

"Well thank you," Annie replied overly enthusiastically. "Okay, might be a little chilly for a minute."

Jo covered her face with her hands, just now realizing that she wasn't wearing anything under the hospital gown and her backside was now completely exposed. Great, the first time Dean sees my ass and I'm practically an invalid. Way to be sexy, Harvelle.

"I'm sorry, I know it's really cold in here," Annie apologized.

"It's okay," Jo muffled into her hands, she could feel Dean's eyes boring into her.

Annie changed the dressings on her side quickly, explaining to Dean what needed to be done and at what time intervals. He would nod and respond to her questions and ask some of his own.

"Alright," Annie said pulling the gown back down, "Would you mind?" She asked turning to Dean again.

"Sure." Dean moved in front of Annie again and slipped his arms under Jo, lifting her and laying her down on her back.

"Such a sweet boyfriend," Annie teased batting her eyelashes up at him. Jo was about to correct her, but Dean just smiled and winked at her, accepting the compliment.

Turning back to Jo, she pulled down the left shoulder of the gown. "The doctor will take the stitches out of this one before you leave." She told Jo taking the bandage off and replacing it with another one. "The other one, you'll have to come back in a week to get those out. Do you want me to make an appointment?"

Jo shook her head, "No, that's okay, I'll call when I get settled in at home."

"Alright," Annie clapped her hands together, "I'll be in later to check on you." She added giving Jo a small wave before she exited the room.

Jo tried looking around the room, tried to find anything that could hold her gaze, as the blood began to rush to her cheeks.

"So..." Dean smirked, "I see you got that tattoo."

Jo squeezed her eyes shut, only just now remembering the anti-possession tattoo placed dangerously low on her waistline, "You were never meant to see that."

"Never?" He teased her, "I don't know about 'never'."

Jo tried her best to glare at him, ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks. "Not really how I pictured it." She muttered under her breath.

"Oh, so you thought about it?" Dean urged on playfully as he made his way to the side of her bed. The worry lines he had developed over the years, smoothed out on his face, making him look like the man Jo had first met all those years ago.

"Dean." She warned, trying her hardest to sound like her mother.

"Jo," He mocked, his hand winding its way up the bed to find hers. His fingers gently urged hers to intertwine with his.

"Dean," Jo repeated herself, though it lacked the same strength, it came out more like a plead. Whiskey brown met emerald green, and it was as if her lungs could not get enough air.

Guilt and sorrow passed over Dean's eyes and he let his head drop and shoved his hands into his pockets. The lightness that had come over him left just as quickly as it had arrived. He cleared his throat as he shuffled his feet, his eyes glued to the linoleum floor.

"Dean?" Jo reached out for him, ignoring the pain in her shoulder. He didn't respond, "Dean?" She tried again.

Dean sighed as he backed up and took a seat in the chair her possessions used to occupy. He leaned his elbow on the table and rested his head in his hand. His shoulders slumped and his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling slowly as he tried to even his breathing.

Jo sat the bed up more, looking around the room as if the answer to his grief was right there with him. Then she finally noticed what was missing. "Where's Sam?"

Dean let out a sardonic laugh finally looking up at her, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"What happened?" She had to restrain herself from yelling.

Dean told her everything. He couldn't stop talking, the levy was broken and he had to tell her. He began from the moment she died, moving in with Lisa, Sam being soulless, Crowley, Bobby, Rufus, Kevin Tran, and the trials, all the way to that very morning. It felt good to tell someone. Someone else had to know what happened besides him, Sam and Castiel. "So, to answer your first question, Sam's at home, barely able to stand and that's my fault."

"How is that your fault?" Jo had been silent the whole time he spoke but was unable to keep her outrage at his irrational guilt quiet any longer.

"It was supposed to be me, Jo." Dean slammed his hand down on the table. "I was supposed to be the one!" He pinched the bridge of his nose, remembering where he was and took a few deep breaths, composting himself. "Sam was supposed to be safe, I was going to take on the trials and he would live on being normal and happy."

"And what about you?" Jo cocked her head at him, "Where would you be?"

At that Dean smiled, "I promised I'd see you on the other side, didn't I?"

A wide toothy smile spread across her lips, the same one Dean would always picture when she came into his mind. "I would have loved it too," Jo quipped, "Going out in a blaze of glory, knowing there's a girl waiting for you on the other side. Must be a country song about it somewhere."

Dean marveled at the woman in front of him. He had just spilled every dark secret of the past three years, all the guilt weighing on him, all the mistakes he had made, everything and she could always manage to make him smile. All of the pain and anguish that had followed after her death seemed as if it was over. As if today was a new beginning and the past was just that, the past. For once he could see a light to the never-ending tunnel he called life. "You were waiting for me?"

Jo smiled at him, remorse clouding her almond eyes, "Haven't I always been waiting for you?"

Dean bowed his head sheepishly.

"Listen," Jo quickly changed the topic, "Pick me up tomorrow and I'll help you take care of Sam. We'll figure this all out."

Dean shook his head, laughing lightly, "You can't even sit up, Jo." He shook his head again, pushing himself out of the chair and taking the spot Annie had vacated, his smile never faltering. "No, Cas' is helping right now, and I need to take care of you too. When you get better you can help me."

Jo nodded, "We'll figure this out."

Dean nodded, chewing on his bottom lip, "I should get back." Dean said quietly as he took her hand in his again. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay. Tomorrow." Jo nodded again, her heart suddenly beating a bit faster, the monitor by her bed missing none of it.

Dean smirked at the monitor before he leaned down, his hand cupping her cheek, he kissed her forehead.

When he didn't make a move to go any further, Jo's heart beat slowed and disappointment set in.

"See you later, Harvelle." With that he turned on his heel and strode out the door.

Jo leaned the bed back, staring up at the ceiling. She could feel her hands shaking from the adrenaline. She chewed on her bottom lip as she replayed the the whole scene in her head. That fucking smirk, She thought, smiling to herself, He's got you wrapped around his finger, 'I'll help you take care of Sam', She mocked herself. Who are you kidding? He's got to take care of you too, and plus he probably still sees you as that stupid little girl with a stupid crush.

Just as Jo was about to continue to berate herself for the rest of the night, the hospital room door swung back open.

Dean stomped back into the room, his hands thrown up in the air, "I know, I know, timings horrible and you're hurt and I might be way off base here but, fuck it." He leaned over the bed and crushed his lips to hers, his hands cupping her cheeks, fingers knotting in her hair.

Jo's mind reeled at Dean's actions, but her body seemed to know exactly what to do. Her right hand curled into a fist around the front of his shirt pulling him that much closer, she leaned into his kiss as best she could in her state.

Dean was the first one to pull away, panting for air he leaned his forehead against hers, "I got the high score." He smirked, pointing over to the heart monitor.

In her daze Jo glanced over to the cause of the incessant beeping and spied the heart monitor. Clarity coming to her, Jo's smacked Dean in the shoulder with her good hand.

Dean chuckled wholeheartedly as he strutted out of the room.

"Tomorrow," Her voice replayed over and over in his ears, the words were burned into his mind. He leaned back in the bench seat of the Impala and traced his fingers over his mouth. He could still feel her lips on his, moving in time as if they were made for each other, just as they had felt that day in Carthage.

Dean knew that if Jo had lived he would have gone to her after Sam jumped in the pit. There wasn't a question in his mind. He could imagine it now, collapsing in Jo's arms as he had done in Lisa's, but instead of compassionate word and a bottle of Jack Daniels to himself, Jo would have shared the bottle of whiskey with him. She wouldn't have tried to change him. She would have helped him find a way to get Sam out, everything would have been different.

He ran a hand down his weary face and turned the car on, heading for a motel he saw on the way into town. The second that Dean had hung up with Jo he bolted out the door, not bothering to tell Sam until he was well on his way. Sam had been sleeping and Dean couldn't bring himself to wake him. Sam rarely slept well normally and even less so given his current state, so when he did, Dean would go to great lengths not to disturb him.

As he pulled into the parking lot he dialed Sam's number.

"Hello?" His younger brother croaked into the phone, followed by a stream of coughs.

Dean sighed at the sound. Sam had not gotten better, he had just stayed the same, no better, no worse. "Hey." He responded as he bowed his head.

"Was it her?" Sam asked eagerly. "Is she okay?"

Dean rubbed the back of his neck as he watched the attendant in the window of the motel office. "Yeah, it's her. She's...," He trailed off, the memory of Jo's injuries assaulted him. "I guess some one found her after all the angels fell and took her to the emergency room. She had..." He trailed off again.

"The hell hound?" Sam questioned trying to get as much information as he could.

"Yeah, they stitched her up and their letting her out tomorrow." Dean tried to push the thoughts of an old run down hardware store out of his mind but he just could not get the picture of Jo looking up at him, her useless legs sprawled out before her, her hand holding in her insides. Let's get our priorities straight, I'm not going anywhere.

Dean shook his head. "I'll be back around four with her tomorrow, I'm going to stay close tonight."

"Alright," Sam answered, his tone clearly calculating. "I'll get Castiel to help me clear out a room. The one next to yours?"

"Yeah that'll work." Dean agreed, the exhaustion of the day catching up with him.

"Did you talk to her, Dean?" Sam pushed.

"Yeah, I talked to her." Dean answered confused, "I did the tests, everything."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

Dean sighed closing his eyes. From the moment Dean had told him that Jo was alive, Sam was incessant. "Sam," He warned his little brother.

"Dean." Sam bit back, "She's alive, she's here. You have to tell her."

"I'm not talking about this anymore." Dean flipped the phone closed and pinched the bridge of his nose thinking back to the conversation he had with Sam earlier that day.

"Are you going to tell her you love her?" Sam had asked. Dean had pushed the question aside saying that they didn't even know if it was really her yet. Now that Dean had seen her with his own eyes, touched her, heard her voice, kissed her, the situation he was currently in crashed down heavily on his shoulders.

Sam was sick, with what and how to fix it he had no idea, the angels had fallen from heaven so they were no help, and he had a newly humanized angel following him around like a five year old. He couldn't even keep track of the fucking prophet.

What would he have to offer her? A pile of dead friends and an old bunker. And him. A broken man pushed to the end of his rope.

Dean leaned his arm against the door of the car sighing again.

He groaned at the memory from only an hour earlier. How could you kiss her? She's only been alive for less than a week and you attack her? He shook his head trying to clear it of the taste of her. He was going to have to be more careful from now on. If he kept going the way he was, he was only going to hurt her, and himself.

Alright, so what did you think? Should I keep going? Yay? Or nay?