Saturday, April 9, 2011

Let Go

Title: Let Go
Rating: R
Author: Reportergirl13
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Jo

Written For: Scoopchick
Word Count: 783
Warnings: Spoilers through season 5 x10
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Everything belongs to Eric Kipke *sigh* but if I did own them I would have taken better care of Jo and Ellen
Authors Note: All three drabbles were inspired by the song “If You Only Knew” by Shinedown

If you only knew
How many times I counted
All the words that went wrong
If you only knew
How I refuse to let you go,
Even when you're gone

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he watched the fire consume the last memories he had of the Harvelle women. The black and white photo collapsed into itself as the embers of the fire devoured the flimsy photograph and yet Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of it.

There weren’t many things in his life he could admit to regretting. Dean wasn’t one to leave himself wanting. He’d traveled the country for years killing the sons of bitches that go bump in the night, sleeping with a ridiculous amount of women, and living life by his own set of moral codes and rules.

When he met Jo…he’d been in a bad place, but he’d wanted her. He’d wanted her like he had never wanted anyone or anything before and that’s why he left her alone. Any one person who could make him feel that strongly within a day of meeting them would only cause him trouble and pain.

Two things he always managed to find on his own so why willingly add it to his plate? They lost contact, but Dean always managed to casually ask Bobby how she was doing. So when they freed the devil and Ellen and Jo got on board to take him down…well they had needed the help.

Who was Dean to turn away hunters at this point? He knew they wouldn’t all make it out of Carthage…but he never thought it would be them…he never thought it would be her…She had always been beautiful, soft, but she’d grown up these past few years, matured in ways Dean was only just realizing.

His jaw clenched as he watched the flames in the fireplace dance. The photo was gone now…nothing but ashes…just like Jo and Ellen…Sam and Bobby had long since left the room, but Dean couldn’t bring himself to move. He thinks he could have loved her.

That’s why he stayed away…why he never called…they were in the middle of a war. He didn’t have time to worry about someone else. He was already too worried about Sam…he couldn’t add someone else to his plate. But as he stood glancing at the flickering of the fire, he wished he had.

In all his 30 years he’d never really regretted anything…until this moment. He wished he’d let Jo in…told her that even though he never says shit like this, she could have been the one. She could have been his Mary…he probably never would have gave up hunting, and to be honest he didn’t think she would either.

But she probably would have been as close to “happily ever after” as he was gonna get. He should have let her know that the reason he didn’t pursue her was because she meant more than one night. So much more…but at the end of the day he hadn’t said any of those things.

He’d had minutes to get years of pent up and repressed emotions out in the open, but he took the easy way out. He didn’t say any of that, because when she looked at him…and when he cupped her face in his hand he saw the same thing he was feeling mirrored in her eyes.

So he had leaned in and put everything he was feeling into a kiss. Their first kiss…and their last. That moment broke him. The only other moment worse in his life was when he held Sam’s dying body in his arms. Dean reached a hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose to keep the tears from falling.

He wouldn’t cry…no more tears would be shed. He was tired. Tired of losing the people he cared about, but this was it. He wouldn’t lose any more people he cared about. Jo was the last straw. She died saving his life…she was a hero…He’d always hold her in his heart.

No one could ever replace her…and he didn’t want anyone to. He refused to let her go…he and Sammy would kill the devil and then maybe…he’d be able to let her go…maybe not. His mood was dark and a single tear slid down his cheek as he bowed his head.

He spoke in a broken voice to the empty room as guilt, exhaustion, and pain wracked his body.

“Why’d you have to come back for me? Why couldn’t you just go?”

He lifted his head and his body jerked forward as he swiped everything off the desk and onto the floor in a fit of rage. He kneeled by the fire and shook his head as he let out a bitter laugh. This was his life. Raw, emotional, bitter, cold, and full of guilt…sometimes that’s just the hand you were dealt.

“I could have loved you Jo…”

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