She Can Go To Hell

an original Supernatural fan fiction

written by: jennifer s. a.k.a. assassinelektra
Disclaimer:I do not own Supernatural or its characters, because they belong to the genius that is Kripke. This is a fan fiction story meant only for the enjoyment of myself and other Supernatural fans.
Summary: When Sam decides he needs a few days to 'figure things out' Dean goes back to find Jo. He soon learns there's more going on in her life than she let on before.
Setting: Right after "Born Under a Bad Sign"
Pairing: Dean/Jo
Rating: R (for language and content)
Warnings: Spoilers through the episode "Born Under a Bad Sign"

"She can go to hell, I'll never be the same!
And these open wounds will heal with time they say,
My heart turned black and then the sky turned gray!"

Billy Talent "The Ex"

Part 1

He watched her for a moment before he even made his presence known. Dean Winchester was use to walking in the shadows, hiding from both the things he hunted and other Hunters, so this was nothing new. It was a bit heartbreaking though.

When she finally did notice him, Jo's expression shifted from bored to irritated, then finally to indifferent, which was almost worse.

"What are you doing here?" Jo asked, guarding her tone of any emotion that might give away what her expression hid.

He glanced around, noticed the last of the few customers that weren't him leave so that it was only he and Jo. "It's nice to see you too, Jo," Dean said sarcastically, taking a seat at the bar as she started wiping it clean.

"We close in ten minutes," Jo said, "You'll need to be out by then." She kept her eyes on the rag she was using to clean rather than Dean.

"So you're not going to ask me how it went?" Dean asked her.

She stopped cleaning all at one and glared at him with an anger that almost scared him. "You left me here, after I pulled you out of the water bleeding, after I took that damn bullet out for you, you just turned around and told me it wasn't my problem. It was your fight. Never mind that I'm the one he tied up and nearly tortured," she added dryly as she went back to her cleaning. "So, no, Dean, I'm not going to ask you how it went. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't give me an answer anyway."

Wow. His eyes widened as he tried to understand what had just happened. Dean decided instead to shake it away and move on by changing the subject. "My shoulder's doing better. I guess you weren't as bad as I thought," he said with a weak side smile—not that she looked up to see it. When she didn't respond and moved to clean one of the tables instead, he turned in his barstool and looked at her. "I brought this back."

Joe glanced up at the bottle he held out in his hand, the painkiller she'd given him when he'd left without her. For a few seconds she just stood there and looked at it, and then her eyes widened a little and she walked over to where he was sitting. "You need it," Jo argued, though there was a frantic underlying tone to her voice that did not go unnoticed by Dean, "Keep it."

His eyes narrowed, and Dean watched her very carefully, taking in every detail of her expression. "Where did you say you got this again?" he asked, pulling the bottle back a bit, not surprised when her eyes became wider as if in fear that he'd put it away.

"I didn't," Jo answered sharply, relaxing her expression because she'd suddenly realized she was reacting way too much. "But if you have to know," she added casually as she started cleaning the nearest tabletop, "I faked an injury and got the prescription. Old Hunter's trick."

Dean nodded. "Sure," he said, letting it go for the moment. "How's your mom?" This, of course, was a trick question since he'd just talked to her on the phone an hour before to tell her everything with Sam was fine.

Jo paused in her cleaning again but didn't glare at him this time. "You'd know better than I would," she snapped.

"Smart girl," Dean commented under his breath, laughing quietly.

"Are you going to tell me why you're here or just annoy the hell out of me all night?" Jo asked. Finished cleaning the table she moved on to another.

"I just dropped by to return this," he said, setting the bottle of painkiller back on the bar, wincing slightly, because his shoulder did still hurt. Jo pretended not to notice that he'd set it down, though she jumped a little at the sound of the plastic hitting the wood. "And to let you know that Sam is fine."

"I figured," she snapped, "otherwise you wouldn't be here." All of the tables were clean now, and she only had sweeping to do before she had no excuse to not face him directly as they talked. Deciding she'd take her time, Jo dropped the cleaning rag in the sink behind the bar and reached for the broom.

"What exactly did he say to you?" Dean asked, a slight scoff to his tone.

"Nothing," Jo lied as she started sweeping.

Dean stood up and took the few steps over to where she was and placed a hand on the broom to still it, knowing full well that she could kick his ass with it if she wanted to. Well, if she caught him off guard. "What did he say, Jo?"

She looked up at him slowly, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. About you or about my dad, Dean, because you'll need to be a little more specific! "Nothing," she added, a bit less sure this time.

"Demons lie," Dean told her quietly.

"Yes, but you said they also tell the truth sometimes!" she snapped, unable to hold back her frustration now as tears fully formed in her eyes. "How was it you put it? Oh right, 'especially if they think it will mess with your head'."

There was only one other thing aside from Hunting itself that Dean had ever seen her get this emotionally revved up over. "What did he say about your dad?" Dean asked quietly, looking at her as he waited for an answer. When she looked at the floor he knew he'd hit the target straight on. "Jo, he was just—"

"We're closed," she said, looking back up at him. "You need to go."

He shrugged his shoulders—regretted it at the fiery pain that shot down his side from his wounded shoulder—and tried to cover it up by heading for the door. He paused about halfway though and spoke to her over his shoulder. "That's the thing," Dean told her, "Sam's off doing his thing—he needed some time to go be emo I guess—and that leaves just me and my car, and as beautiful as she is, she's not always the best company." He smiled at that, though inside he was breaking, because he knew what he was really saying and he hated it.

She studied him for a moment, and when she spoke next her tone was calmer, quiet, "You can stay here tonight if you need to," she told him.

"You live here?" he asked in disbelief, turning around fully to look at her.

"Managing the place during the day is part of the rent," she said, shrugging. "It's a pretty good deal. Gives me time to go hunting at night."

She was too young to want to be a Hunter. He almost told her that, almost explained how much danger she was putting herself in, but then he realized that it wouldn't do any good. She knew what she was getting into because she'd grown up around it, and it was almost like she was looking to get hurt.

Like me. That was a bitter thought, and he brushed it away, "Thank you," Dean told her, "I'll be gone in the morning."

"I'm sure you will," Jo said under her breath, but Dean heard it.