a subtle sort of brilliance (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theladyscribe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
avandell2006-11-17 10:34 am
theladyscribe) wrote in avandell2006-11-17 10:34 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Promise
Title: Promise
Rating: G/PG
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Jo, Sam vaguely mentioned; Dean/Jo
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Dean Winchester, Jo Harvelle, and everything else affiliated with Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and CW. Not mine.
Spoilers: Mild spoilers for season 2, especially No Exit
Notes: Written for the![[info]](https://stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
4purposes challenge. This one is springtime and is the first in a four-part series (spring, summer, fall, winter). The prompt was "spring will be a little slow to start" but that may not be obvious to you (it is to me, but then I'm the one who wrote it).
Summary: They were headed back out west, maybe to Nebraska or Nevada or some other equally dry and dull state in the middle of nowhere. Dean was not looking forward to it, especially since Sam was insistent that they stop at the Roadhouse and try to make amends for the last time they’d seen Ellen and Jo.
Like it? Love it? Hate it?
Rating: G/PG
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Jo, Sam vaguely mentioned; Dean/Jo
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Dean Winchester, Jo Harvelle, and everything else affiliated with Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and CW. Not mine.
Spoilers: Mild spoilers for season 2, especially No Exit
Notes: Written for the
4purposes challenge. This one is springtime and is the first in a four-part series (spring, summer, fall, winter). The prompt was "spring will be a little slow to start" but that may not be obvious to you (it is to me, but then I'm the one who wrote it).Summary: They were headed back out west, maybe to Nebraska or Nevada or some other equally dry and dull state in the middle of nowhere. Dean was not looking forward to it, especially since Sam was insistent that they stop at the Roadhouse and try to make amends for the last time they’d seen Ellen and Jo.
Promise
Spring in East Tennessee was pretty, Dean decided. He liked it. Everything was all nice and green and fresh-smelling. Pretty was a good word for it. Not that Dean would ever admit that to anyone, of course.
But everything had to come to an end at some point, and Dean and Sam were driving away from those lush green hills. They were headed back out west, maybe to Nebraska or Nevada or some other equally dry and dull state in the middle of nowhere. Dean was not looking forward to it, especially since Sam was insistent that they stop at the Roadhouse and try to make amends for the last time they’d seen Ellen and Jo.
Dean knew it needed to be done, but he really wanted to put it off as long as possible. He’d seen the pain in Jo’s eyes, and he wasn’t sure that she’d ever forgive them, even though they had nothing to do with her father’s death. Still, Sam was right, and they’d let this sit for far too long as it was. So they packed up their things and headed to Iowa.
They ended up spending longer at the Roadhouse than they had intended. Dean didn’t mind it so much; after all, it gave him time to try to rebuild his friendship with Jo. And even better than that, she seemed to want to rebuild it, too.
They started off shyly, acting more like kids in the early stages of mutual attraction than two adults who faced down ghosts and demons and werewolves for their livings. It was a dance to be certain, one with intricate moves where one tiny misstep could knock everything off balance. Slowly, they grew more comfortable with it, and eventually Dean fell into that easy confidence that he usually had around women. It wasn’t quite the same, though. There was still an edge of tension, even under the jokes and laughter and smiles.
But like before, everything had to come to an end at some point, and Dean and Sam got word of a job out in Idaho, and that was that.
They had everything packed up and planned to leave first thing in the morning. Dean knew he needed to sleep, but he just couldn’t. It was long past midnight (nearing three), he was wide awake, and his mind would not rest. Sighing, he finally climbed out of the cot and padded through the darkness to the barroom. At first, he thought he was alone, but then he caught a flicker of motion in a corner booth. Jo.
She didn’t say anything, only stood up and came toward him. She took his hand and led him out onto the porch, where she picked up a gas lamp and a book of matches from next to the door. She lit the lamp, letting go of his hand, and beckoned for him to follow her. They moved silently through the empty fields, and Dean was beginning to think that either this was a dream or Jo was a glamour when suddenly she came to a stop at the top of a ridge.
“What is it?” Dean whispered, looking at her in the dancing lamplight.
She shrugged and smiled. “When I was a kid, I would come out here and watch the stars. I’d try to stay up the entire night, but I always fell asleep before dawn.” She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. They sat in silence for a while when Jo spoke again. “I’m glad you came to see us, Dean. I thought about calling – even started dialing a few times – but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk after what happened.” She paused. “It made winter even bleaker than usual, not knowing if you guys were okay, not knowing if you’d ever come back.”
“Winter in Iowa is bleak and dreary? Really?”
They fell into companionable silence again, content to stare out across the steadily lightening fields, and Jo leaned her head against Dean’s shoulder. “Do you have to leave?” she asked softly when the sky was fading from neutral grey into pink.
“I wish we didn’t,” he answered, “but I’ll be back.”
“Promise?”
But everything had to come to an end at some point, and Dean and Sam were driving away from those lush green hills. They were headed back out west, maybe to Nebraska or Nevada or some other equally dry and dull state in the middle of nowhere. Dean was not looking forward to it, especially since Sam was insistent that they stop at the Roadhouse and try to make amends for the last time they’d seen Ellen and Jo.
Dean knew it needed to be done, but he really wanted to put it off as long as possible. He’d seen the pain in Jo’s eyes, and he wasn’t sure that she’d ever forgive them, even though they had nothing to do with her father’s death. Still, Sam was right, and they’d let this sit for far too long as it was. So they packed up their things and headed to Iowa.
They ended up spending longer at the Roadhouse than they had intended. Dean didn’t mind it so much; after all, it gave him time to try to rebuild his friendship with Jo. And even better than that, she seemed to want to rebuild it, too.
They started off shyly, acting more like kids in the early stages of mutual attraction than two adults who faced down ghosts and demons and werewolves for their livings. It was a dance to be certain, one with intricate moves where one tiny misstep could knock everything off balance. Slowly, they grew more comfortable with it, and eventually Dean fell into that easy confidence that he usually had around women. It wasn’t quite the same, though. There was still an edge of tension, even under the jokes and laughter and smiles.
But like before, everything had to come to an end at some point, and Dean and Sam got word of a job out in Idaho, and that was that.
They had everything packed up and planned to leave first thing in the morning. Dean knew he needed to sleep, but he just couldn’t. It was long past midnight (nearing three), he was wide awake, and his mind would not rest. Sighing, he finally climbed out of the cot and padded through the darkness to the barroom. At first, he thought he was alone, but then he caught a flicker of motion in a corner booth. Jo.
She didn’t say anything, only stood up and came toward him. She took his hand and led him out onto the porch, where she picked up a gas lamp and a book of matches from next to the door. She lit the lamp, letting go of his hand, and beckoned for him to follow her. They moved silently through the empty fields, and Dean was beginning to think that either this was a dream or Jo was a glamour when suddenly she came to a stop at the top of a ridge.
“What is it?” Dean whispered, looking at her in the dancing lamplight.
She shrugged and smiled. “When I was a kid, I would come out here and watch the stars. I’d try to stay up the entire night, but I always fell asleep before dawn.” She sat down and motioned for him to do the same. They sat in silence for a while when Jo spoke again. “I’m glad you came to see us, Dean. I thought about calling – even started dialing a few times – but I wasn’t sure if you’d want to talk after what happened.” She paused. “It made winter even bleaker than usual, not knowing if you guys were okay, not knowing if you’d ever come back.”
“Winter in Iowa is bleak and dreary? Really?”
They fell into companionable silence again, content to stare out across the steadily lightening fields, and Jo leaned her head against Dean’s shoulder. “Do you have to leave?” she asked softly when the sky was fading from neutral grey into pink.
“I wish we didn’t,” he answered, “but I’ll be back.”
“Promise?”
Like it? Love it? Hate it?