Date: 2008-04-09 09:58 pm (UTC)
Dean's read stories about survivors - plane crashes, cancer, stroke. He hears about how they take off more time from work, spend more time with their families, take better care of their bodies.

But when Dean escapes death, escapes damnation, he doesn't do any of those things. He drinks more, swears more, smokes more, drives faster. And by the next weekend he's in Duluth with Sam, taking out a nest of thirsty vampires.

After, he shows up on Jo's doorstep, half drunk and leaning against the frame in that way of is. She opens the door and he stumbles into her small living space without so much as a word.

Well, hey yourself, she says, but she's only half as annoyed as she seems. Sure it's been over a year, but old friends are hard to come by when they keep dying off and she's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, no matter how drunk it is.

He pushes himself up against her on the sofa, kisses her neck, tells her she's pretty, and falls asleep before even getting to third base.

Jo slips off the couch and covers him up as best she can, plants a pillow on the floor beside him to cushion the fall in case he rolls right off--which he probably will--and looks at him, her head cocked to one side.

What are we gonna do with you, Winchester?
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