She's still standing somewhere near the back of Baby.
Unable to not think the name. Unable to make her feet even move.
Because.
No.
He didn't.
And if he -- even if --
That's not. It's just not.
"You don't get to just say something like--" Like that. There's solid metal under her hand and she doesn't remember when she started touching the car. The parking lot doesn't even exist. The store doesn't. The whole world refracted down to Dean. And Dean's face. And what he just said, no matter how he just said it.
She's not even sure if her organs are connected to each other. Her blood is moving. She's still breathing. She's always kept access to file she shouldn't. She always had to know. Always had to know he was okay.
Nothing in the world makes sense if she has to hear, or has to make herself actually say, barely above a whisper, her voice a waver almost demanding to make that a joke, something, anything else. Anything but a sideways truth. "You died?"
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Except Jo hasn't moved.
She's still standing somewhere near the back of Baby.
Unable to not think the name. Unable to make her feet even move.
Because.
No.
He didn't.
And if he -- even if --
That's not. It's just not.
"You don't get to just say something like--" Like that. There's solid metal under her hand and she doesn't remember when she started touching the car. The parking lot doesn't even exist. The store doesn't. The whole world refracted down to Dean. And Dean's face. And what he just said, no matter how he just said it.
She's not even sure if her organs are connected to each other. Her blood is moving. She's still breathing.
She's always kept access to file she shouldn't. She always had to know. Always had to know he was okay.
Nothing in the world makes sense if she has to hear, or has to make herself actually say, barely above a whisper, her voice a waver almost demanding to make that a joke, something, anything else. Anything but a sideways truth. "You died?"