[She doesn't bother answering over the phone, just hangs up and heads on over. It feels strange, not to have him living two doors down from her anymore -- he'd chosen a different room when he got back, and she's not sure she can blame him. He seemed to need distance from everyone.
Thankfully, a little bit of distance in this place was negligible, at least when it came to visiting.
She pauses outside his door, knocking softly before calling out.]
Hey, it's me.
[Any other time, she would have let herself in. Now, it didn't feel right.]
[ it's probably a mistake to let her come over, especially after the event they'd just shared. it has... complicated things, even if dean tries to uncomplicate them in his head, they remain there, a quiet reminder of everything.
but it's too late now, and he just waits for the inevitable knock. when it comes, he opens the door, briefly looking over her face before moving out of the way for her to enter. ]
Hey, you can just-- uh, come in.
[ it's odd, but never before would he admit to wishing he could be a sixteen year old over his actual self more so than he does right now. at least they'd both been-- better, happier. even if it had been fake. ]
[As if she would let him keep her away. She'd asked permission to come, but really, what could he have done to stop her? She's stubborn. Just as stubborn as he is, by all accounts.
She exhales slowly when he opens the door, relieved just to see him standing there, whole-- death wasn't permanent here, but that didn't make it any less of an ordeal. The human mind wasn't meant to deal with the trauma of dying and coming back -- she knew that from experience.
She'd been killed, but not murdered the way Dean had been. Nothing so brutal or personal. She swallows hard, nodding as he invites her in, wordlessly stepping through the door. She walks past him, fidgeting with her hands held in front of her stomach, then turns sharply on her heel to face him and throw her arms around his middle.
He could say whatever he wanted. This was a hugging kind of moment.]
[ he wants to say he is too, that he's glad everyone else is okay, and that-- and--
and really he's still not sure what to say. but then, he doesn't have to, because she's suddenly stepping closer with her arms around him, and dean stills.
something small, quiet cracks inside him. something keeping at bay every memory of what had happened. it's all there now, the quick, violent death, but her here-- jo hugging him -- is chasing it away.
his arms come around her slowly, sort of like the first time when he'd arrived, but once they slide around her he squeezes. light at first, but it grows into something firmer, something more confirming with each second that passes by, with her real and warm and alive in his arms. it reminds him that, yes, he's alive too. not a corpse hanging off some mirror somewhere, eyeless and thumbless, but alive and well and she's here too.
with the way he's hugging her back, it's like he has no plans of letting go. not yet. ]
[Lucky for him, she's not interested in having him let go anytime soon. She buries her face in his shoulder for a moment, hugging him as tightly as her arms will allow. After a few moments, she does loosen her hold -- but makes no move to step away from him or pull herself out of his grasp, only goes up on her tip-toes and takes his face in her hands.
It's not right to say that she thought she'd never see him again; she knew how things worked here, but that didn't make anything better. People could say what they wanted about Dean Winchester; he didn't deserve what had happened to him, and her rage towards whoever had been responsible was still boiling deep down in her chest, barely restrained-- but for the moment, she could put that aside.
She brushes her thumb against his cheekbone before tilting her chin upwards and pressing her lips to his, far less chaste than the only other kiss they've shared since he returned to Wonderland, but there are no real words for how happy she is to see him. This, she feels, should about cover it.]
[ if the hug was a distraction from the mess that lingers inside of his head, then the kiss manages to blank him out completely. it's real, and it's her, and she's warm, and it's-- exactly what he needs. now, whether or not it's the right thing to do, dean can't say, but for the moment it's perfect.
which probably, and most likely means, it's a massive mistake.
but her lips touch his and the kiss isn't the same chaste, welcoming type, so dean reacts. it's not instantaneous, but soon enough his hands are gone from around her as well, sliding up to the sides of her face, and shit, he's kissing jo, something which will never not be remarkable considering she's so long gone back home.
when he does draw back, it's not far at all, only enough to look at her -- really look -- as that gratitude for being back, being alive, and having her here settles firm and confidently in his chest. ]
[Their first kiss ever had been a kiss goodbye. Jo was determined not to let that be the only one -- and though she remembered hundreds of kisses from Dean's previous visit to Wonderland, this Dean did not. This Dean... they hadn't shared anything that was real yet, only chaste and familial when they weren't butting heads, angry with one another over situations that were truly beyond their control -- the flow of time, or, if she was being honest, the slights she'd felt from a Dean who wasn't quite the man standing in front of her. They were different, in tiny but definitive ways, both shaped by experience.
A part of her wants to forget how much pain they'd caused each other the summer before and write it off as a fluke, say that it had been, as always, the wrong time, but ignoring that felt reckless. Dangerous.
And yet all she wanted to do was stand here with him with their arms around each other, something she'd wanted for years but had resigned herself to never having, long before Wonderland was ever a part of the equation.
She wonders if she should apologize. She knows this complicates things, and yet-- she wasn't sorry. She didn't feel bad for letting him know exactly how glad she was to see him, how happy she was that he was alive and she could touch him and know that he was whole, that he was okay. She shouldn't have to feel bad.]
Maybe someday-- we'll manage that without someone having to die.
[ it would be ideal, to just let himself remain like this with her. it's what he wants, as well, but dean knows this can't last-- or won't. with her words, he does smile some though, a slight curve of a corner of a lip. ]
Maybe.
[ and it's sad, that he truly can't promise her otherwise. someone is always in danger, someone is always dying-- it's their life, always has been and always seems to be, no matter what the time or place. it's what seems to drive them together more often than not, and a part of him wonders what that exactly means.
the thought is put aside for now though. ]
Until then, this ain't the worst way to welcome someone back.
[ maybe that's all their kisses are meant to be. who knows. ]
[She smiles, almost bashful as she ducks her head, hiding it from him, although 'embarrassed' isn't really a word that belongs in Jo Harvelle's vocabulary. She doesn't feel like letting go of him, not yet-- who knows how much time there is before he gets caught up in something else, before something else comes between them.
For now, for the next few minutes, they're at peace for the first time in a long time. She wants to enjoy it, however long it does or doesn't last.]
I thought it was fitting. Seemed, you know -- appropriate.
[And overdue. She's been holding on to something that's been gone for months now, hurting Dean in the process. Whatever happened, or whatever didn't, hurting someone she cared about was not something she aimed for.]
I'm sorry. For how things have been. Seeing you like that, like--
[God, she can't even say it.]
If it was permanent, it would have meant we parted on rocky terms. I don't want that.
Hugs and kisses, right, ain't that the normal greeting for someone who went away for a bit? Seems perfectly logical to me.
[ he's almost teasing though, but it feels good-- this feels good. right. better than how things have been, even. dean can't say he'll just get over dying, that it's been pushed to the back burner -- hell, it's anything but -- but this grounds him, she anchors him.
he shakes his head at her apology. ]
Don't. You're right, but don't-- 'cause it's alright. We'll just... we'll have to try and make sure we don't have to worry about rocky terms, yeah? [ honestly, he feels bad for how bad things have been. she's alive her, they've already shared some months together, so to go out knowing there's tension between them? he doesn't want to risk it again, not after everything.
it's easier said than done, but maybe from now on he can try to smooth things over more quickly between them, in case anything like this happens again.
another moment passes before dean forces himself to step away, though his hand lingers some down her arm before falling to his side. ]
Now what's left is to catch the asshole. Make sure he doesn't do it to anyone else.
[There's something about Dean that always makes her a little tongue-tied when they're alone like this, when the subject of potential feelings or whatever it was that made some so special to one another either came up or was obviously avoided. Around anyone else she would probably be embarrassed, but Dean knew her better. Knew she was a self-possessed young woman who was brimming with confidence any other day of the week, but there was something about them that always shook her.
They would make sure there were no more rocky terms. It almost sounded too good to be true. They always did find something to butt heads about -- but it was important to know that they always came back around, after a certain period of time.
A part of her was glad when he stepped away. She'd been tempted to kiss him again, but with the space between them, it was no longer a simple tilt of the chin to press her lips against his second time. She catches his hand when it falls away from her arm, fingers brushing against his, not quite willing to let him go completely -- though it wasn't really her call. There was another part that wanted him to stay close and do a hell of a lot more than kiss.
But there were other matters to deal with first.]
Unluckily for them, we're better detectives than they probably gave you credit for. Sam, too. What were you doing beforehand? I mean, immediately before, or the last few days? There has to be something there that triggered this asshole to do what they did. There has to be a reason.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Audio]
Alright, yeah... I'm, uh, I'm in my room.
[ so she can come over. he'd offer to come himself, but running into anyone outside right now doesn't seem too appealing. ]
[Action]
Thankfully, a little bit of distance in this place was negligible, at least when it came to visiting.
She pauses outside his door, knocking softly before calling out.]
Hey, it's me.
[Any other time, she would have let herself in. Now, it didn't feel right.]
[Action]
but it's too late now, and he just waits for the inevitable knock. when it comes, he opens the door, briefly looking over her face before moving out of the way for her to enter. ]
Hey, you can just-- uh, come in.
[ it's odd, but never before would he admit to wishing he could be a sixteen year old over his actual self more so than he does right now. at least they'd both been-- better, happier. even if it had been fake. ]
[Action]
She exhales slowly when he opens the door, relieved just to see him standing there, whole-- death wasn't permanent here, but that didn't make it any less of an ordeal. The human mind wasn't meant to deal with the trauma of dying and coming back -- she knew that from experience.
She'd been killed, but not murdered the way Dean had been. Nothing so brutal or personal. She swallows hard, nodding as he invites her in, wordlessly stepping through the door. She walks past him, fidgeting with her hands held in front of her stomach, then turns sharply on her heel to face him and throw her arms around his middle.
He could say whatever he wanted. This was a hugging kind of moment.]
I'm so glad you're okay, Dean.
[Action]
and really he's still not sure what to say. but then, he doesn't have to, because she's suddenly stepping closer with her arms around him, and dean stills.
something small, quiet cracks inside him. something keeping at bay every memory of what had happened. it's all there now, the quick, violent death, but her here-- jo hugging him -- is chasing it away.
his arms come around her slowly, sort of like the first time when he'd arrived, but once they slide around her he squeezes. light at first, but it grows into something firmer, something more confirming with each second that passes by, with her real and warm and alive in his arms. it reminds him that, yes, he's alive too. not a corpse hanging off some mirror somewhere, eyeless and thumbless, but alive and well and she's here too.
with the way he's hugging her back, it's like he has no plans of letting go. not yet. ]
[Action]
It's not right to say that she thought she'd never see him again; she knew how things worked here, but that didn't make anything better. People could say what they wanted about Dean Winchester; he didn't deserve what had happened to him, and her rage towards whoever had been responsible was still boiling deep down in her chest, barely restrained-- but for the moment, she could put that aside.
She brushes her thumb against his cheekbone before tilting her chin upwards and pressing her lips to his, far less chaste than the only other kiss they've shared since he returned to Wonderland, but there are no real words for how happy she is to see him. This, she feels, should about cover it.]
[Action]
which probably, and most likely means, it's a massive mistake.
but her lips touch his and the kiss isn't the same chaste, welcoming type, so dean reacts. it's not instantaneous, but soon enough his hands are gone from around her as well, sliding up to the sides of her face, and shit, he's kissing jo, something which will never not be remarkable considering she's so long gone back home.
when he does draw back, it's not far at all, only enough to look at her -- really look -- as that gratitude for being back, being alive, and having her here settles firm and confidently in his chest. ]
[Action]
A part of her wants to forget how much pain they'd caused each other the summer before and write it off as a fluke, say that it had been, as always, the wrong time, but ignoring that felt reckless. Dangerous.
And yet all she wanted to do was stand here with him with their arms around each other, something she'd wanted for years but had resigned herself to never having, long before Wonderland was ever a part of the equation.
She wonders if she should apologize. She knows this complicates things, and yet-- she wasn't sorry. She didn't feel bad for letting him know exactly how glad she was to see him, how happy she was that he was alive and she could touch him and know that he was whole, that he was okay. She shouldn't have to feel bad.]
Maybe someday-- we'll manage that without someone having to die.
[Action]
Maybe.
[ and it's sad, that he truly can't promise her otherwise. someone is always in danger, someone is always dying-- it's their life, always has been and always seems to be, no matter what the time or place. it's what seems to drive them together more often than not, and a part of him wonders what that exactly means.
the thought is put aside for now though. ]
Until then, this ain't the worst way to welcome someone back.
[ maybe that's all their kisses are meant to be. who knows. ]
[Action]
For now, for the next few minutes, they're at peace for the first time in a long time. She wants to enjoy it, however long it does or doesn't last.]
I thought it was fitting. Seemed, you know -- appropriate.
[And overdue. She's been holding on to something that's been gone for months now, hurting Dean in the process. Whatever happened, or whatever didn't, hurting someone she cared about was not something she aimed for.]
I'm sorry. For how things have been. Seeing you like that, like--
[God, she can't even say it.]
If it was permanent, it would have meant we parted on rocky terms. I don't want that.
[Action]
[ he's almost teasing though, but it feels good-- this feels good. right. better than how things have been, even. dean can't say he'll just get over dying, that it's been pushed to the back burner -- hell, it's anything but -- but this grounds him, she anchors him.
he shakes his head at her apology. ]
Don't. You're right, but don't-- 'cause it's alright. We'll just... we'll have to try and make sure we don't have to worry about rocky terms, yeah? [ honestly, he feels bad for how bad things have been. she's alive her, they've already shared some months together, so to go out knowing there's tension between them? he doesn't want to risk it again, not after everything.
it's easier said than done, but maybe from now on he can try to smooth things over more quickly between them, in case anything like this happens again.
another moment passes before dean forces himself to step away, though his hand lingers some down her arm before falling to his side. ]
Now what's left is to catch the asshole. Make sure he doesn't do it to anyone else.
[Action]
[There's something about Dean that always makes her a little tongue-tied when they're alone like this, when the subject of potential feelings or whatever it was that made some so special to one another either came up or was obviously avoided. Around anyone else she would probably be embarrassed, but Dean knew her better. Knew she was a self-possessed young woman who was brimming with confidence any other day of the week, but there was something about them that always shook her.
They would make sure there were no more rocky terms. It almost sounded too good to be true. They always did find something to butt heads about -- but it was important to know that they always came back around, after a certain period of time.
A part of her was glad when he stepped away. She'd been tempted to kiss him again, but with the space between them, it was no longer a simple tilt of the chin to press her lips against his second time. She catches his hand when it falls away from her arm, fingers brushing against his, not quite willing to let him go completely -- though it wasn't really her call. There was another part that wanted him to stay close and do a hell of a lot more than kiss.
But there were other matters to deal with first.]
Unluckily for them, we're better detectives than they probably gave you credit for. Sam, too. What were you doing beforehand? I mean, immediately before, or the last few days? There has to be something there that triggered this asshole to do what they did. There has to be a reason.
Whatever it is, we'll find it.