26. Urgent Care

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"Jo?"

"I-I'm fine. Just winded."

Sam and I get our wounds attended to. Fortunately, somehow, my claw marks in my cheeks don't require stitches. I don't know how I got that lucky, but I still have bandage patches on my face. I feel ridiculous having them on me.

The three of us are a little worse for wear when we stumble out of the hospital.

"So, that's it, huh? Two quarts O-neg, and you're good to go," Dean tells Sam.

Sam sighs as we're down the steps. "How is she?"

"She's strong. She'll be all right. Those stitches gonna hold?"

"Oh, yeah...uh, professional grade. Couple days of antibiotics and some bed rest, and I'm, uh, back to normal."

"You lucked out, didn't you, Jo?"

I snort. "Yeah. Amazing, right?"

"You gonna need bedrest too?"

"Well, I was diagnosed with a slight concussion."

"How in the hell did you manage to do that?"

Sam and I exchange embarrassed looks. "We were saving our asses in the cabin when the other werewolves came, and, well, we kinda took a tumble down the basement steps. I hit my head." Somehow, that didn't require stitches either.

"And you let her drive?" Dean asks Sam.

"She was better out of the both of us," says Sam.

"Besides, the adrenaline kept the pain at bay," I say smoothly. "Point is, we're all alive. Stitched and bandaged and banged up, but alive all the same."

I groan, stretching out in the backseat of Baby. Letting my body properly rest feels like Heaven. I can seriously crash right now and not give a shit.

"Hey, so, what did you do?" Sam asks Dean up front in the car. "When you thought I was dead? What did you do?"

"Thought about redecorating your room," says Dean, "you know, putting in a Jacuzzi, a nice disco ball...really class up the joint."

"Right, seriously."

"What, I, uh...I knew you weren't dead."

"Right." Sam sounds unconvinced.

"I knew."

But as Dean drives us off back to the bunker, I know for a fact that's not true.

* * *

"Dean, I'm a big girl, you don't need to play doctor," I insist.

Since we got back to the bunker, we'd all gotten some rest, even though there's the threat of Amara looming over our heads and Lucifer in the wind. We maintained a quiet, peaceful atmosphere in the place.

But now, as I'm trying to head to bed for the night, Dean's cornered me in one of the bathrooms, peeling off the bandages on my face. He's got new ones to replace the old ones. I wince as the tape tugs on my skin. The cuts sting at the exposure.

"I mean, I've got a mirror as a guide," I insist as I sit on the toilet lid.

"Nah, it'll keep me busy." He tilts his head. "You sure these were deep, Jo?"

"They sure felt it."

"They don't look it. They look like they're starting to heal already."

"Really?" To my knowledge, I'm not a fast healer. As Dean unwraps a new bandage, I look at him softly. "I know you didn't know he was alive."

Dean stops to look at me. "And you didn't say anything?"

"We were all exhausted, it wasn't worth opening up for discussion. What did you do, Dean? Really?" I look at him expectantly. "I won't tell Sam."

"I told you what I did, Jo."

"And you know I don't believe that." I put a hand on his arm. When the green eyes meet mine, I can see the pain. I can see the echoes of the pain and desperation. "What did you do, Dean?"

"I was..." He rubs his face. "I was trying to find a way to bring him back."

"What insanity did you try?"

"You don't want to know."

"Um, if I didn't, I wouldn't be asking."

Dean hovers the bandage over my one cheek, making sure its placement is right. I feel the texture be placed on my skin. "I didn't want him gone, so I tried..." He looks away, grabbing another bandage. "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does, Dean. It matters to me. I know you were in pain, so was I."

"When we were at the hospital, I, uh...I tried to see if I could get a reaper to trade my life for his."

"God damn it, Dean," I moan. "I don't need to ask how you tried this, because I already know." I hold back the tears.

He pats the other bandage on my other side now. "That's how I found out he wasn't dead."

"So, you attempted...suicide...just to bring Sam back." I feel a lump grow in my throat. The things he does for our brother.

"You won't tell him?"

"I already said that I won't."

He smooths the bandage over. "There. Good as new."

I slide off the toilet, getting on my knees to be eye level with Dean. I hug him tightly, and I feel his head bury into my neck. His body shakes. He almost killed himself to save Sam. I would've gained one brother but lost the other if he had been successful in the trade. It's a scary thought.

"Did you think—did you think I was gone, too?" I ask timidly.

"I wasn't sure what to think," he mumbles into my shoulder. "I wasn't ready to think that you were gone too."

"Well, hopefully you don't have to for a long time. I love you, Dean."

"I love you too, Jo."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

I sniff. "Good."

We sit there in silence, in the bathroom, holding each other. I don't know what's going through my brother's head, but I know what's going through mine. My brothers are alive. I'm alive. Dean's willing to do anything possible to keep Sam alive.

Now a troubling thought comes to mind: would he do the same for me, even if I would never ask that of him?

Unfortunately, I fear I know the answer to that question.

**I've always loved the bond Jo has with her brothers. With Sam, it's more of a protective thing. With Dean...I don't know, they may get on each other's nerves, but at the end of it all, they still love each other.

In case you haven't noticed, "I love you" isn't a common sibling thing to say with these Winchesters. When they do say it, you know they really mean it.**

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