![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rsadelleHer mother never tells her. It's Ash who lets it slip when she calls him for some information. He says it and then stops talking like he realizes what he's done.
"What did you say?" she asks low and dangerous.
"Jo," he says, and she knows he's not going to repeat it. She hangs up on him.
She puts her mind back on the job, salts and burns the bones, and then stays in her hotel room for two more days, only leaving for food, before she can bring herself to call her mother.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" Her mother actually sounds surprised. Which means Ash didn't tell her what he'd said.
"That John was my father."
Her mom sucks in a breath so deep Jo can hear it across the line. "William was your father," she says firmly. "In every way that matters."
"Except for the part where he wasn't really."
"Joanna Beth," her mom says sharp and angry, "William was your father. He raised you and he loved you. Blood isn't the only thing that makes a family."
Jo's laugh is short and bitter. "I would have slept with Dean, you know." And then she hangs up on her mother and doesn't pick up when her mom calls her back.
***
She's a hunter, and she doesn't have a job lined up, so she finds them. They're out when she gets there, so she breaks in and waits for them. She's made a good dent in a fifth of whiskey when they come through the door. They stop when they see her sitting at their table.
"Jo!" She flinches when Sam comes toward her, and hates herself for it, and more when he sees it and stops and lowers himself into the chair farthest from her.
"What are you doing here?" Dean pulls out another chair and drops into it. His lip was split recently and still hasn't healed. Even though she knows, she still wants him.
"My mom lied to me." Jo tosses back her shot and pours herself another one. "My whole life, she lied to me." Sam and Dean look at each other and then back to her.
"Okay," Dean says. "What do you want us to do about it?"
She laughs, that same ugly laugh from when she was on the phone with her mother. "It's a good thing, you know, that you were still grieving for," and she doesn't know how to finish that - "John," "your dad," "our dad," they all seem wrong - "that you were still grieving when we met and didn't hit on me." She downs her shot, but Sam reaches out and takes the bottle from her before she can pour another one.
"Why don't you just tell us what this is about," he says, all calm and reasonable and caring.
"This," she says precisely, "is about us. I'm your sister."
They both freeze, Sam shocked and Dean laser-focused on her.
"John was my dad, not William." She stares down into her empty glass wishing Sam would give her the bottle back. "I don't think she was ever going to tell me." She laughs again, quieter this time. "I think she even would have let me sleep with you before she would ever tell me."
***
After Dean talks Jo into lying down to sleep, Sam finds two more glasses and pours them each a shot. They slam them back and Sam pours again. This time they only sip.
"We should call Ellen," Sam says.
Dean glances over at Jo and nods. "I'll do it." He takes his phone out and stands to go make the call outside.
"No," Sam says. "I will. You stay here."
"Sam, I'll do it."
"She's afraid of me."
Dean scrubs a hand over his face. "You were possessed the last time she saw you." He sits back down and dials. "She's not gonna wake up now." Ellen picks up the phone on the third ring.
"Ellen, it's Dean." He's met with silence. "Jo's here."
"Is she okay?" In all the time since they met her, he's never heard her sound like this. Like she might cry.
Dean looks at Jo, curled up and sleeping. "I don't know. You lied to her. You lied to us. Hell, for all we know, you lied to our dad."
Ellen laughs short and sharp, and it's the same as Jo's laugh from earlier. "What difference would it have made?"
Dean thinks about a lot of ways things would have been different. "She's a Winchester." Sam's head jerks up to look at him.
"She's a Harvelle," Ellen snaps back at him.
"She's our sister," Dean says, his voice tight.
"Yeah," Ellen says, "your sister. But she's my daughter, not John's. He never figured it out, you know. He was here, and he came back a year later and I had a three-month-old baby, and he never figured it out. If he'd wanted to know, he could have. But he never did. That man was obsessed, and there was no room for anything else in his life."
They're both silent for a moment, and then Dean says, "We'll take care of her," and hangs up.
***
When she wakes up in the morning, the hangover is kind of a relief. Her whole body hurts, she thinks she might throw up, and her mouth is the grossest thing ever, but it's nothing compared to how she feels when she remembers.
She sits up and looks around. Sam's sprawled out asleep in the other bed, and Dean's sitting in one of the chairs watching them both. She wonders if he slept at all, or if he's just been watching them, watching over them, all night.
She doesn't talk to him, just picks up her bag and takes it into the bathroom. When she comes back out, Sam's sitting up and reaching for one of the cups of coffee Dean has. In the light, in the morning, he's just Sam, hair mussed and pillow creases on his face, and not the thing that tried to hurt her. Dean hands her the third cup and she sits across from him at the table. She takes a couple of sips and then stands again.
"I'm leaving," she says.
"No," Dean says, "you're not. Sit down." It's John's voice, the one she'd only heard a couple of times when he was ordering someone around. "Sit down," he says again, and she does. "Sam, get dressed. There's a diner across the street."
She drinks her coffee in silence, and they walk across the street to the diner. Sam and Dean sit on one side of the booth with her on the other side. When she just asks for coffee, Sam orders her pancakes and Dean orders her eggs.
"You're coming with us," Dean says while they're waiting for their food.
"Like hell I am." No fucking way. Jo's on her own now, and that's the way she likes it.
"It's my job to take care of you." Sam's nodding in agreement with everything Dean says.
"You have a job," she reminds him. "Hunter."
"No," Dean disagrees. "My job is to protect my family."
She's not his family. "Protect Sam," she says.
He nods. "Sam," he agrees, "and you."
"Last time I saw him, Sam was possessed. You can't even protect him." She knows she's trying to hurt him, and there is a flinch in his eyes when she says it. "How are you going to protect both of us?
Sam and Dean exchange a look, and it's Sam who answers. "The kinds of things that come after me aren't going to come after you. Besides, you'll have both of us watching out for you." He taps a finger against the edge of her plate. "Eat your breakfast. And," he glances at Dean before he goes on, "you should probably call your mother."
"No," she says, but she digs into her eggs.
***
They drive most of the rest of the day, and check into a hotel when they get to Rochester. Two beds and three of them, and Dean settles into a chair.
Sometime after midnight, Jo wakes up and Dean's still sitting there.
"Come to bed," she says, half-awake.
"I'm fine," he says, his voice low so he won't wake up Sam.
"You're going to wreck your back, and you need to sleep," she says. "Just come lie down for a while." She smiles sleepily at him. "I won't touch you."
He laughs a little at that, still quiet, but he leans down and takes off his boots. He leaves an array of weapons on the table, brings one knife with him, and lies down on top of the comforter next to her.
"Go back to sleep, Jo," Dean says, and she's already slipping back under. It's been a long time since she actually slept in the same bed with someone else. She thinks she feels a brush across her hair, and then she's out.
"What did you say?" she asks low and dangerous.
"Jo," he says, and she knows he's not going to repeat it. She hangs up on him.
She puts her mind back on the job, salts and burns the bones, and then stays in her hotel room for two more days, only leaving for food, before she can bring herself to call her mother.
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" Her mother actually sounds surprised. Which means Ash didn't tell her what he'd said.
"That John was my father."
Her mom sucks in a breath so deep Jo can hear it across the line. "William was your father," she says firmly. "In every way that matters."
"Except for the part where he wasn't really."
"Joanna Beth," her mom says sharp and angry, "William was your father. He raised you and he loved you. Blood isn't the only thing that makes a family."
Jo's laugh is short and bitter. "I would have slept with Dean, you know." And then she hangs up on her mother and doesn't pick up when her mom calls her back.
***
She's a hunter, and she doesn't have a job lined up, so she finds them. They're out when she gets there, so she breaks in and waits for them. She's made a good dent in a fifth of whiskey when they come through the door. They stop when they see her sitting at their table.
"Jo!" She flinches when Sam comes toward her, and hates herself for it, and more when he sees it and stops and lowers himself into the chair farthest from her.
"What are you doing here?" Dean pulls out another chair and drops into it. His lip was split recently and still hasn't healed. Even though she knows, she still wants him.
"My mom lied to me." Jo tosses back her shot and pours herself another one. "My whole life, she lied to me." Sam and Dean look at each other and then back to her.
"Okay," Dean says. "What do you want us to do about it?"
She laughs, that same ugly laugh from when she was on the phone with her mother. "It's a good thing, you know, that you were still grieving for," and she doesn't know how to finish that - "John," "your dad," "our dad," they all seem wrong - "that you were still grieving when we met and didn't hit on me." She downs her shot, but Sam reaches out and takes the bottle from her before she can pour another one.
"Why don't you just tell us what this is about," he says, all calm and reasonable and caring.
"This," she says precisely, "is about us. I'm your sister."
They both freeze, Sam shocked and Dean laser-focused on her.
"John was my dad, not William." She stares down into her empty glass wishing Sam would give her the bottle back. "I don't think she was ever going to tell me." She laughs again, quieter this time. "I think she even would have let me sleep with you before she would ever tell me."
***
After Dean talks Jo into lying down to sleep, Sam finds two more glasses and pours them each a shot. They slam them back and Sam pours again. This time they only sip.
"We should call Ellen," Sam says.
Dean glances over at Jo and nods. "I'll do it." He takes his phone out and stands to go make the call outside.
"No," Sam says. "I will. You stay here."
"Sam, I'll do it."
"She's afraid of me."
Dean scrubs a hand over his face. "You were possessed the last time she saw you." He sits back down and dials. "She's not gonna wake up now." Ellen picks up the phone on the third ring.
"Ellen, it's Dean." He's met with silence. "Jo's here."
"Is she okay?" In all the time since they met her, he's never heard her sound like this. Like she might cry.
Dean looks at Jo, curled up and sleeping. "I don't know. You lied to her. You lied to us. Hell, for all we know, you lied to our dad."
Ellen laughs short and sharp, and it's the same as Jo's laugh from earlier. "What difference would it have made?"
Dean thinks about a lot of ways things would have been different. "She's a Winchester." Sam's head jerks up to look at him.
"She's a Harvelle," Ellen snaps back at him.
"She's our sister," Dean says, his voice tight.
"Yeah," Ellen says, "your sister. But she's my daughter, not John's. He never figured it out, you know. He was here, and he came back a year later and I had a three-month-old baby, and he never figured it out. If he'd wanted to know, he could have. But he never did. That man was obsessed, and there was no room for anything else in his life."
They're both silent for a moment, and then Dean says, "We'll take care of her," and hangs up.
***
When she wakes up in the morning, the hangover is kind of a relief. Her whole body hurts, she thinks she might throw up, and her mouth is the grossest thing ever, but it's nothing compared to how she feels when she remembers.
She sits up and looks around. Sam's sprawled out asleep in the other bed, and Dean's sitting in one of the chairs watching them both. She wonders if he slept at all, or if he's just been watching them, watching over them, all night.
She doesn't talk to him, just picks up her bag and takes it into the bathroom. When she comes back out, Sam's sitting up and reaching for one of the cups of coffee Dean has. In the light, in the morning, he's just Sam, hair mussed and pillow creases on his face, and not the thing that tried to hurt her. Dean hands her the third cup and she sits across from him at the table. She takes a couple of sips and then stands again.
"I'm leaving," she says.
"No," Dean says, "you're not. Sit down." It's John's voice, the one she'd only heard a couple of times when he was ordering someone around. "Sit down," he says again, and she does. "Sam, get dressed. There's a diner across the street."
She drinks her coffee in silence, and they walk across the street to the diner. Sam and Dean sit on one side of the booth with her on the other side. When she just asks for coffee, Sam orders her pancakes and Dean orders her eggs.
"You're coming with us," Dean says while they're waiting for their food.
"Like hell I am." No fucking way. Jo's on her own now, and that's the way she likes it.
"It's my job to take care of you." Sam's nodding in agreement with everything Dean says.
"You have a job," she reminds him. "Hunter."
"No," Dean disagrees. "My job is to protect my family."
She's not his family. "Protect Sam," she says.
He nods. "Sam," he agrees, "and you."
"Last time I saw him, Sam was possessed. You can't even protect him." She knows she's trying to hurt him, and there is a flinch in his eyes when she says it. "How are you going to protect both of us?
Sam and Dean exchange a look, and it's Sam who answers. "The kinds of things that come after me aren't going to come after you. Besides, you'll have both of us watching out for you." He taps a finger against the edge of her plate. "Eat your breakfast. And," he glances at Dean before he goes on, "you should probably call your mother."
"No," she says, but she digs into her eggs.
***
They drive most of the rest of the day, and check into a hotel when they get to Rochester. Two beds and three of them, and Dean settles into a chair.
Sometime after midnight, Jo wakes up and Dean's still sitting there.
"Come to bed," she says, half-awake.
"I'm fine," he says, his voice low so he won't wake up Sam.
"You're going to wreck your back, and you need to sleep," she says. "Just come lie down for a while." She smiles sleepily at him. "I won't touch you."
He laughs a little at that, still quiet, but he leans down and takes off his boots. He leaves an array of weapons on the table, brings one knife with him, and lies down on top of the comforter next to her.
"Go back to sleep, Jo," Dean says, and she's already slipping back under. It's been a long time since she actually slept in the same bed with someone else. She thinks she feels a brush across her hair, and then she's out.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-24 05:10 pm (UTC)I like Dean's reaction to finding out she's his sister, because, YES. That's exactly it.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-24 05:26 pm (UTC)Thank you! I'm glad you liked that.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-09-25 03:45 pm (UTC)