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avandell2007-01-05 02:27 pm
theladyscribe) wrote in avandell2007-01-05 02:27 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Two Lost Soles (Dean and Jo)
Title: Two Lost Soles
Characters: Dean, Jo (mild implied Dean/Jo)
Word Count: 505
Summary: “Nightmare?” he asked softly after a moment.
Notes: Set in the TNverse along with my other Dean/Jo fics. Title is from Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.” The misspelling of “soul” is intentional and is an homage to a friend of mine who is, in many ways, the Dean Winchester to my Jo Harvelle.
Two Lost Soles
One night late in July, Jo awoke to shouts coming from the next room. Quietly, she climbed out of bed and padded softly to Dean’s door. She knocked, but of course there was no answer. She opened the door, and the light from the full moon illuminated Dean as he tossed and turned and shouted for his brother.
Jo was hesitant to wake him, but when he began to sob in his sleep, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She sat on the bed beside him and brushed her fingers through his hair, jumping back when he lurched awake, gasping and wild-eyed.
“Dean?” she whispered, and he turned to her, the confusion and loss in his eyes quickly being replaced with recognition and embarrassment.
“Shit, Jo. Did I wake you?” he asked. She nodded, and he ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay.” She paused. “You wanna tell me about it?”
“No.”
She accepted that with a slight nod and said, “I’m gonna go back to bed then, but if you need anything, Dean, you know where to find me.” She stood, but was stopped by his warm hand around her wrist.
“Don’t go,” he whispered, his voice strained. “Please.”
“Alright.” Jo sat back down on the bed and pulled the blankets over herself as Dean moved to make room. She lay on her side facing him as he stared up at the ceiling. Jo ran her fingers lightly across Dean’s face, tracing the contours of his profile as she whispered benedictions in Latin.
**********************************************************
Jo jolted awake, her breathing heavy as she tried to calm herself. A warm hand grasped her arm, and she turned to see Dean, an unreadable look in his eyes.
“Nightmare?” he asked softly after a moment.
Jo nodded. “A bad one.” She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then, embarrassingly, began to sob. “It was mom,” she choked out. “When she got — ” She cut off, and Dean pulled her into his arms.
“It was just a dream,” he whispered, rubbing her back gently as she cried into his shirt. “Just a dream.”
She shuddered and cried a little longer before pulling away. “Sorry,” she muttered, smiling sheepishly at the tearstains on Dean’s t-shirt. She sniffed. “I probably look a sight,” she said, rubbing at her face.
Dean grinned. “Happens to the best of us. Y’know, sometimes even I get a little engine grease on my face.”
Jo laughed at that, glad for the distraction. “Yeah, and sometimes you get a little engine grease on everything in the apartment,” she said.
“Hey, it’s my apartment.”
“Yeah, well, who cleans it?” she returned.
Dean shrugged, his smile wide. “Not my fault if you decide to be the responsible one.” He moved to go, but Jo caught his wrist.
“Stay?” she asked.
He nodded once and lay down beside her, one arm around her shoulders. Softly, he began to sing: “So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain…”
*******************************************************************************************************
A/N: The full lyrics to “Wish You Were Here,” because it fits these two so well:
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange
a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
running over the same old ground. What have we found?
The same old fears,
wish you were here.
Characters: Dean, Jo (mild implied Dean/Jo)
Word Count: 505
Summary: “Nightmare?” he asked softly after a moment.
Notes: Set in the TNverse along with my other Dean/Jo fics. Title is from Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here.” The misspelling of “soul” is intentional and is an homage to a friend of mine who is, in many ways, the Dean Winchester to my Jo Harvelle.
Two Lost Soles
One night late in July, Jo awoke to shouts coming from the next room. Quietly, she climbed out of bed and padded softly to Dean’s door. She knocked, but of course there was no answer. She opened the door, and the light from the full moon illuminated Dean as he tossed and turned and shouted for his brother.
Jo was hesitant to wake him, but when he began to sob in his sleep, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She sat on the bed beside him and brushed her fingers through his hair, jumping back when he lurched awake, gasping and wild-eyed.
“Dean?” she whispered, and he turned to her, the confusion and loss in his eyes quickly being replaced with recognition and embarrassment.
“Shit, Jo. Did I wake you?” he asked. She nodded, and he ran his hands through his hair. “Sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay.” She paused. “You wanna tell me about it?”
“No.”
She accepted that with a slight nod and said, “I’m gonna go back to bed then, but if you need anything, Dean, you know where to find me.” She stood, but was stopped by his warm hand around her wrist.
“Don’t go,” he whispered, his voice strained. “Please.”
“Alright.” Jo sat back down on the bed and pulled the blankets over herself as Dean moved to make room. She lay on her side facing him as he stared up at the ceiling. Jo ran her fingers lightly across Dean’s face, tracing the contours of his profile as she whispered benedictions in Latin.
**********************************************************
Jo jolted awake, her breathing heavy as she tried to calm herself. A warm hand grasped her arm, and she turned to see Dean, an unreadable look in his eyes.
“Nightmare?” he asked softly after a moment.
Jo nodded. “A bad one.” She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then, embarrassingly, began to sob. “It was mom,” she choked out. “When she got — ” She cut off, and Dean pulled her into his arms.
“It was just a dream,” he whispered, rubbing her back gently as she cried into his shirt. “Just a dream.”
She shuddered and cried a little longer before pulling away. “Sorry,” she muttered, smiling sheepishly at the tearstains on Dean’s t-shirt. She sniffed. “I probably look a sight,” she said, rubbing at her face.
Dean grinned. “Happens to the best of us. Y’know, sometimes even I get a little engine grease on my face.”
Jo laughed at that, glad for the distraction. “Yeah, and sometimes you get a little engine grease on everything in the apartment,” she said.
“Hey, it’s my apartment.”
“Yeah, well, who cleans it?” she returned.
Dean shrugged, his smile wide. “Not my fault if you decide to be the responsible one.” He moved to go, but Jo caught his wrist.
“Stay?” she asked.
He nodded once and lay down beside her, one arm around her shoulders. Softly, he began to sing: “So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain…”
*******************************************************************************************************
A/N: The full lyrics to “Wish You Were Here,” because it fits these two so well:
So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees? Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change? And did you exchange
a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl,
year after year,
running over the same old ground. What have we found?
The same old fears,
wish you were here.
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