Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: Nine

~~~~~~~~~~

If Dean was asked to describe what it had been like to watch the memories return to Jo’s mind, he didn’t think he could verbalize it well enough to convey the sense of complete wonder in what he’d seen. The entire process had taken no more than about thirty seconds or a minute at most.

He’d approached the car directly behind her, had seen her lean over and pull out that album. As she’d opened it, the soft, hazy light of the rising sun had caught her face and she’d seemed to almost glow. Emotions had crossed her face in rapid succession, punctuated by a muted, startled ‘oh!’. Finally, he’d seen a blossoming of understanding and there before him was the Jo he remembered; the one who’d teased him with an almost kiss before turning him down flat; who’d always had a comeback sometimes as smart-ass as what he’d come up with; who’d always known who he was beneath his skin even when they were still strangers; who’d gone to her death far braver than many others ever would.

He didn’t have to hear her speak or even have her look at him to know it was her and that she was whole. Dean felt it on a gut level. Jo was back.

Joanna Beth Harvelle. Woman. Hunter. Friend.

And she was going to be a force of nature in his life from here on out. Dean just knew it. That advice he sat beside her and gave? She was going to take it and nothing was going to stop her from achieving whatever she set her mind on. She had that look in her eyes. A quiet determination that reminded him wholly of Ellen.

When she’d gone upstairs, he looked over at Bobby. “You’re a genius, Bobby.”

“Nah. You two just got her all ready for it is all. It was mostly your doing.”

Sam sat down in Bobby’s favorite chair. “You know she’s going to want to know what’s happened since Carthage.”

“And?” Dean crossed his arms.

“And what are we going to tell her? How much are we going to tell her?”

“Everything, Sam.” Dean said it with a firm tone. Jo was one of them. She deserved to know everything that had gone on and especially what had led to the world they now had. She could handle it all and then some. “We tell Jo everything, highs and lows.”

Bobby snorted. “Well of course you’re telling her everything. After how she died? All of it comes out, no matter how uncomfortable the telling.”

“Even me having been soulless?” Sam’s brows rose. “The deal you made with Crowley, Bobby? What about Lisa and Ben, Dean? All of that included?”

Bobby’s nod was stiff and it was apparent he wasn’t looking forward to Jo’s reaction to his deal. As for the Braeden’s…. Dean swallowed uncomfortably. “All of it,” he forced out, knowing this decision was the right one. “If it had a hand in making us who we are today and in shaping the world into what it is, then it gets told. Jo can handle it.”

“She is her mother’s daughter,” Bobby said and walked into the kitchen. “I got work. Get me when she comes back down.”

Dean stretched out on the couch and stared at the ceiling. If he was going to have to put his relationship with Lisa and what had happened there into words, it was best he think on it awhile. It was going to be painful to talk about.

~~~~~~~~~~

After her shower and nap, Jo ventured downstairs to discover the cop from the day before at the kitchen table talking with Sam. Bobby was nowhere to be seen and Dean was snoring on the couch. Jo paused long enough to gently place a blanket over Dean before going into the kitchen. The woman looked over as Jo entered the room.

“You look considerably more calm today,” she said.

Jo laughed, “You have no idea,” and opened the fridge. She pulled out a loaf of bread, found the peanut butter and jelly and made herself a sandwich.

“So I don’t need to be checking missing person reports for Rhode Island?”

“No, I’ll take care of it in a few days.”

“Won’t your friends there be worried?”

Jo chewed a bite of sandwich and swallowed it. It was a good point. She’d had friends there. Very protective friends. “Okay, I’ll give them a call today and let them know I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Sam slid his chair back and looked at her. “Jo, this is Sheriff Jodie Mills. Jodie,” he gestured at Jo, “Jo Harvelle.”

Jo switched the sandwich to her other hand and stepped forward to shake her hand. “Sorry to eat in front of you. I’m a little hungry. Haven’t eaten much in a few days.”

“I called for pizza delivery,” Sam offered.

Jodie got up from the table. “I’d better be getting back. Nice meeting you, Jo.”

“Likewise.” When Jodie had gone, Jo took her chair. “Dean’s sacked out.”

“He barely slept the past few days, Jo. He wanted to watch over you. With you back, he can rest. I looked over not five minutes after he laid down on the couch and he was out. Hasn’t moved a muscle.” He started to get up. “I’ll wake him.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Let him rest. He deserves it.”

He was awake by the time the pizza arrived and Bobby had come in, their dinner taking on a festive air. All of them ate far too much. It was a relaxed, fun evening that slowly wound down after the leftovers were put away.

Jo curled up on the couch beside Dean. There was room to spread out, but she sat on the cushion beside his, close because she wanted to. “Fill me in on some of what’s gone down.”

He talked for nearly an hour, and in the places he ran out of words, Sam or Bobby took over. They chronicled stopping the Apocalypse and the heavy prices they’d paid. It turned out she wasn’t the only one who’d been dead. Both Castiel and Bobby had died and been brought back. She learned the reason why Bobby was out of the wheelchair and his fight with the Crowley for his soul -- with some aside mentions of Rufus’s involvement that made her smile. Working with Rufus was always an experience one way or another. He had a certain way about him.

“Wait…Crowley was the one who had the Colt, right?” She shifted position, crossing her legs Indian fashion. “The demon who was Lilith’s right hand guy?”

“Yeah.” Bobby nodded. “That’s the one.”

“You made a deal with a demon?”

“Don’t remind me. It was stupid and totally something these two would do,” he pointed at Sam and Dean, who both had the grace to ignore the totally true statement. “But it ended well for me after a lot of expended effort.”

“That’s a rare thing, Bobby. Deals with demons, as a rule, never end well.”

“This one did.”

They talked about Dean’s battle to return Sam’s soul to him and Sam’s resistance to that. She could see that Sam was ashamed by that now, by some of the things he’d done and how he’d behaved without that critical piece of him present. Then, there were the other things, the pieces that had both Sam and Dean speaking in halting sentences, yet soldiering on until all was told. The Campbells, the Braedens, an entire year apart. Dean laid out his part of the tale quietly, hunched over staring at the floor.

Jo watched him closely as he spoke, noting the slight edge of defeat in his words. As the story wound down, Sam beginning to take up his end, Jo realized that Dean thought he’d failed at being a family man. He thought he could never have the joy of being a father or husband and that being a hunter was all that defined him.

Oh, sweetie, she thought. You just didn’t have the right elements there for it to happen for you. Just be patient. It’ll come for you.

Personally, she’d always been of the opinion that hunters could have families. She’d known several through her mom. Granted the lives of the hunters were often cut short, like her dad, but there could be that life if both people wanted it and understood what it entailed. It was a hard life, certainly. Most hunters with families had a home base, like Bobby, and had more of a structured hunting life than Sam and Dean had experienced. Bobby was a good living example of a structured hunting life in her opinion. He had a regular job, a home, and still went out on jobs. They’d do well to study how he balanced it all.

Some day, she wanted a family of her own. A couple kids, either boy or girl was fine. Since she was alive, Jo saw no reason not to do all those things she’d wanted to, like Dean had told her. Why waste her time putting off life? She had that second chance.

She learned about their cousins; family they’d thought had been wiped out, and the things that had gone on with them.

“I gotta ask, guys…. Please don’t take offense at this.” Jo accepted the beer Bobby brought her and took a long swallow. “Does making demon deals like run in your blood or something?”

Sam let out a groan. “I’m starting to wonder myself. Anyway, Gwen, one of our cousins, took off a few weeks after I got my soul back. Said she couldn’t work with family who knowingly worked with a demon. It pissed her off --”

“Rightly so,” Dean interjected. “You can imagine just how pissed I was by that coming to light. And then being forced to comply sucked big huge donkey balls.”

“We hear from Gwen every so often. Sounds like she’s enjoying the freedom to hunt how she wants.”

“I send her encouraging texts every couple days.”

Translation: he sent her snarky texts to tease her. Jo could imagine the sort of texts he’d send.

“Nice. How’s Castiel these days,” she asked, which opened a whole other long discussion on a civil war in heaven. They told her everything she’d want to know and then some. By the time everything was told, Jo’s brain felt overloaded with information. “Okay. Where are we now as hunters?”

Bobby gestured with his bottle. “Neck deep in the hideous hellspawn crawling over the earth.”

“Business as usual then?”

Her calm question produced silence, then a sputtering of laughter from all three of them and Sam’s tentative, “You’re right, Jo. That is…business as usual.”

She’d said the right thing, tension dissipating and it was late when Jo went up to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jo Harvelle was herself again.

Castiel was glad to see that and not only because it’d keep Dean from calling him over and over about it. He’d liked Jo and thought she could be more than a match for Dean if she chose to take him on.

He wanted to tell her his progress on the search for Ellen. Normally he’d wait until he had something definite, but he supposed Dean’s mandate to share any information he had, even if it was none, applied to Jo as well as to Sam and Bobby. He’d been the subject of a few angry lectures in the past on making contact in reasonable timeframes and reassuring the humans he knew that he really was working on whatever they asked him to. Human interactions were tiring, more so than he’d ever imagined possible. They needed reassuring often and seemed to think if he wasn’t contacting them with useless assurances that he was doing nothing.

Perhaps the war had made him testy.

Cas appeared in the room she’d chosen, not noting she was in a state of semi-undress until she mentioned it. She denied being embarrassed, but he could see the slight flush on her cheeks. Jo brazened it out well, he decided.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello, Jo.”

She looked up with a sharp gasp, clutching her unbuttoned blouse together. “Cas! I’m undressing here! You couldn’t knock?” Turning her back, she did up the buttons and then faced him. “Seriously, knocking is your friend. It’s just good etiquette.”

“My apologies. I didn’t intend to cause you embarrassment.”

“No embarrassment, just…knock next time, okay?”

“Of course. I’ll remember to knock.”

She crossed her arms, well aware the gesture belied her claim of no embarrassment. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you in the diner.”

“It wasn’t your fault. I have news for you. It’s likely not what you wish to hear at present.”

“Go on.”

“It concerns your mother. I was unable to locate her among the dead. There was a trace of her, but all indication is that she, too, was returned to earth. Knowing Ellen, and how she felt about her family and friends, she would have contacted someone if she was in the condition to do so.”

The news was told bluntly, yet with a gentle tone, as though he truly regretted having to inform her of it. “Meaning Zachariah probably did to her what he did to me. Set her down with false memories and a false life, leaving her like a bomb to go off.” She shrugged. “It’s nothing I wasn’t expecting to hear, Castiel.”

“He left specific instructions on how the two of you were to be utilized if the Apocalypse failed. Zachariah liked having contingency plans and he rightly divined Sam and Dean’s ability to save the day.” He took a step towards her. “Raphael is attempting to finish the Apocalypse.”

“He’s an archangel?”

“Yes. He sent one of his generals to neutralize you.”

“Kill me again?”

“Leave you trapped in that life Zachariah created for you,” he corrected.

“Oh. You found me instead?”

“I was following him, yes. He led me to you.”

“Was it intentional?”

Uncertainty slid across his features in a rush and was gone. “Perhaps.”

“Does that mean he was supposed to neutralize my mother too?”

“Likely. I’ve a couple leads, a couple brothers on that side who may talk. Raphael rules his army through fear and intimidation, but….”

She understood what he was trying to tell her. Raphael’s ranks were beginning to fall apart already, slowly and surely as they would with any dictator. “You may learn a few things from sources closer to him very soon. How’s your war going? Sam and Dean told me.”

“Progress is adequate.” He stared at her, a hint of a smile upon his lips. “You’re very much like your mother, Jo. I’ll contact you when I have information.”

“Do you need --” He was gone before she could finish the question. “Okay. Guess he can find me without my cell number.”

Jo slept well that night, waking late in the morning and having a leisured brunch of pancakes and bacon that Dean cooked. Funny. She’d never thought of him cooking before, but it was a surprisingly sexy scene. Jo decided she liked a man who could cook.

She was antsy to get on the road and wrap up the tail ends of the life that had never truly been hers. After that? Who knew. She’d travel around, checking with people Ellen had known, and maybe, just maybe, Castiel would contact her soon with information.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam and Bobby were getting that car Ellen had driven ready for Jo to take, giving it a good once over for her. Dean waited with her in the house, sitting on the couch talking. She was all fired up to go, their conversation rambling.

“Why would Zachariah do that to us, Dean? Why use us of all people?”

“Who knows why Zachariah did some of those things? Orders? I don’t know. Guess he knew what you two mean to us. All I really know is that we’ve got you back and I’m damn glad for it.”

She drew her legs up, clasping her arms around them. “I thought I’d grown out of the whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing.”

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“You had to save me again, Dean.”

“Yeah, but you and Ellen saved us big time so we’re even.”

Jo leaned her head back. “I’m going to find her. Castiel says --”

“Cas was here?”

“Yeah, for about two minutes. He says she’s not in heaven, that she’s here, on earth somewhere, and if Zachariah did to her what he did to me…..” She blinked, a sheen of tears in her eyes. “She was always there for me. Now it’s my turn. I’m going to find her, help her remember, and then….” Her voice turned hard and Dean saw a steely glint in her eyes. “Then Team Harvelle will be back in the game and those evil sons of bitches better watch out.”

“Jo?” Bobby poked his head in the door. “Your chariot awaits. All checked up, gassed up, and ready. Keys are in it. Sam’s loading your bag and a few provisions.”

“Thanks, Bobby.”

He disappeared back outside, the door slamming.

She uncurled and got up, Dean following. “I appreciate this and everything else.”

Dean caught her hand, urging her to stop. “Jo.”

She stepped back to him and looked up at him. “Dean?”

He wanted to hold her, but didn’t quite know how to ask for that, his shoulders lifting in a small, hesitant shrug. “You be careful out there.”

She stared at him a long moment before moving forward and embracing him, the very thing he wanted. It was a full body hug, her face to his neck and hands in his hair. “Ditto, sunshine,” she whispered in his ear. “Call me if you have any leads on mom.”

“Back at you.” He wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the pleasant mélange of perfume, shampoo, and soap.

“You know, I don’t really know how to thank you for this.” She drew back, still within the circle of his embrace.

“None necessary. You and Ellen…. You’re family.” He meant it, too. It had been a hard road for him to fully define what family really meant for him and this was the result. Family wasn’t just blood. It was those people who meant the most, the ones a body would sacrifice himself to protect. It was those who understood the whole of a person -- the good, the bad, and the hellateous ugly -- and accepted it all with open arms.

Sam. Bobby. Castiel. Ellen. Jo. They all accepted him, warts and all, and there were no conditions attached either, that unconditional love Sam had talked about.

Dean had had a real family all along and he’d never seen it until the other definition, the ‘normal’ one, fell away. “You’re family,” he repeated.

“A sister?” Her tone was innocent, her gaze mischievous, fingers tickling at the base of his neck.

He snorted. “Good God, no. With the naughty things I’ve dreamed of doing to you?”

Jo smiled. “Good. I like that you dream naughty things. Makes me feel we’re on the same wavelength.” It was the most straight aggressively flirtatious thing she’d ever said to him. He thought he could really enjoy a grown-up, mature Jo. Her hands moved, rested on his shoulders, squeezing lightly. “See you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t be a stranger.”

“Not if I can help it.” She turned to go, trailing one hand down his arm, but when her hand grazed his and the reality of her leaving hit him, he took his own advice.

He grasped her hand in a firm grip, tugging her back. If she slapped him, then so be it, but he wasn’t letting her go again without a proper kiss.

Dean kissed Jo the way he would have if they’d gotten a chance together: long, slow, and deep, savoring the seconds and how well she fit against him. Her height was right, her body curving to his as though she’d been made to do so, and Jo knew just how to touch him. Her fingers twined with his, her free hand grasping his t-shirt at his waist, responding with an eagerness that thrilled him, her tongue dancing with his without hesitation or even awkwardness. There was heat and promise in that response and when he ended the kiss and released her, her lips curved in a smile.

“I’ll call you, okay?” Her voice was husky.

He watched her sashay from the house, her hips swaying in a most appealing fashion, and slowly smiled himself. “I know you will.” She’d call him and he already knew he’d be calling her. Calling, texting…whatever it took to keep her in his life. Dean wanted Jo there. He wanted that force of nature sweeping over him, bringing a fresh newness that brushed all of the old hurts away.

Taking out his phone, he opened up his contact list. Jo was back and it was time to finally purge those ghosts of his past that he’d carried around with him. He went through the names, deleting first those who’d died. Then, he found Lisa’s name. Dean didn’t waver, deleting her number and severing the invisible tie that had kept him bound. It was strange to suddenly feel lighter by that action and ready to move forward. Lisa was fully in the past now. She’d refused to accept an integral part of him -- Sam -- and he was ready to set that failed relationship aside because here before him now was the potential for much more: a woman who accepted him completely and understood all of who and what he was, had been, and probably would ever be.

He closed his fist around the phone, almost giddy to realize he was excited to begin pursuing Jo as more than the friend she’d been. There inside him was more exhilaration than he’d felt for any woman. While he knew Jo, he looked forward to learning about the woman she was today and the woman she’d be tomorrow.

Sam came inside. “Feels anticlimactic with her gone already. I thought she’d stay a few days and get her bearings.”

“She’s anxious to find Ellen.” Slipping his phone into his pocket, he looked around the room. It seemed a lot less brighter without Jo there, the colors muted. “Well, what do you want to do now? Continue our vacation or look for a case or two?”

He slid his hands into his pockets. “Actually…. Talking with Jo’s got me wanting to be back out there. We could pick a direction, see what hits our path along the way.”

Actually, Sam took the words right out of his mouth. “I here you, Sammy. Let’s hit the road.”

They were gone within the hour.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hunting on her own was vastly different than anything Gwen Campbell had ever experienced. Of course she knew all of the various steps to a hunt and had performed each at one time or another, but it had always been with a team. Never on her own. She found being on her own to be freeing and frustrating at the same time. Freeing in that she could choose the where, when, how, and take as much time as she liked in the research area. Not to mention she could even sightsee if she wanted.

But for a woman used to company, it was frustrating. There was no one to share her ‘a-ha’ moments with or bitch to when things went south. Sam and Dean didn’t count as they weren’t actually there with her, though Dean’s smart-ass texts were like a piece of home to her -- not that she’d tell him that. And Sam was always good to confer with even with his returned soul adding emotion. She’d had to get to know him all over again because soul Sam differed from soulless Sam.

They’d understood her disgust at the situation and supported her decision to leave and strike out on her own. They’d been the only ones, too. How was that for a loving family? The ones she’d known the least amount of time were the ones who, in that crucial moment, had been the most like family, though she still wasn’t sure exactly how they were related. Samuel had said they were, and she’d believed him.

Sometimes, she wondered why they were so supportive of her decision, but that wondering never lasted long. If either had thought she couldn’t do this job alone, they would have said something and tried to discourage her.

Her phone dinged and she took it out. Speak of the devil. It was a text from Dean.

‘Found Bigfoot yet, Supergirl?’

With a shake of her head, she replied, ‘Ages ago. He said you were the best night of his life. And if I’m Supergirl, who are you?’

‘I’m Batman.’

She laughed softly to herself and waited for more, but he appeared to be done for the moment. Gwen put the phone away, feeling a twinge of lonliness.

She hated admitting to being lonely and when she came across another female hunter working alone like she was, she set herself to the task of tracking her and studying her. It was an attempt to find a compatible hunting partner without giving herself away immediately. She even thought she was doing rather well at being inconspicuous until she turned from closing the trunk of her car to find a gun pointed at her.

“Who are you and why are you following me? Start talking.” The woman stood with calm ease, curious but not alarmed. Gwen had the feeling that if she’d perceived Gwen as a threat, she’d already be dealt with.

She held her hands out at her sides. “I’m Gwen. I’m a hunter, like you are.”

“And you’re following me, why?”

“It’s not often I see other women hunters. We’re something of a rarity in this field.”

“You were curious.” The gun lowered a fraction.

“You could say that. I’m looking for another hunter to maybe partner up with on occasion, have friendly exchanges of information, maybe keep a running tally of jobs completed.”

“You think I might make a good partner?”

“Don’t know yet,” she admitted slowly. “You seem like you know what you’re doing, but I’ve met good hunters before that made dumb mistakes and ended up on the wrong side.”

The woman laughed and lowered the gun. “At one time or another, any hunter will inevitably make a dumb mistake. With luck, it won’t be one that’ll kill you.” She put the gun away and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Gwen. I’m Ellen.”