40. The One Time Where a Chick-Flick Moment is Acceptable

I'm honestly amazed that I was even allowed outside of the bunker after I made a mess on its floor.

The air is refreshing, but a heavy somberness looms in it. This is the final preparation for us. Dean's about to go off and confront Amara, and most likely kill himself with the bomb inside of him.

Unlike our past final confrontations with the big bad, we've switched it up a bit. And let me tell you, it hurts. It hurts me deeply inside, to see her gravestone. Cemeteries never really creeped me out, it just came with the lifestyle. But the one grave that has me weak in the knees is the grave of my mother, Mary Winchester.

There's no picture of her on her stone. I vaguely remember her features. All I know is that the blonde hair I was born with came from her. Some people said that I looked like her too, and that the only representation I had of John Winchester was in my eyes.

Now, I look nothing like either of my parents thanks to this semi-new body.

Sam, Dean, and I are in front of our mother's grave. I feel like it should be just us, but Cas, Rowena, Crowley, and Chuck remain by the Impala. I feel the tears stinging my eyes, my throat is already becoming dry. Would you be proud of us, Mom, with what we've been doing? Is this what you would've wanted for us had you kept on living?

"Dean," I say thickly, still having my eyes on our mother's gravestone, "you don't have to do this."

"'Course I do. I just have to get close." I look at him wearily. "I can do that, okay? I can do that. Don't give me those sad eyes, Jo."

"It's never been my thing." I sniff, rubbing under my nose.

"You know, if this works, that bomb goes off," Sam reminds our brother.

"I know," says Dean. He pats Sam on the shoulder and gives me a forlorn look as he goes over to Rowena and Chuck. Rowena is Chuck's crutch right now.

"I can't believe this," I mutter to Sam. "We were starting to mend fences, and now Dean's gotta sacrifice himself. Again." I wipe my eyes. "It's gonna happen. Amara will die, because that's how our luck goes. We defeat the bad guy, but one of us bites the dust in the process."

"Jo, you didn't have to come with us," Sam reminds me quietly. "You could've stayed at the bunker. You should've stayed."

"If this was my last chance to see my brother, I'm not going to miss out." I shrug. "Besides, I'm not in the line of fire. He'll be the only one." I don't want to let him go. I sigh heavily. "I can't imagine what she'd think if she was ever watching over us." If there was ever a time I needed my mother. "You know...this is the first time I've seen her gravestone. It still hurts just as much when I realized she wasn't coming back."

I breathe shakily as I feel Sam take one of my hands. I look over my shoulder; Dean is talking with Cas now. Emotional goodbyes all around. A grim thought pierces my mind: if this works out, Dean isn't going to meet his niece.

Another thought: if this fails, none of us might get the chance to meet her, in this lifetime anyway.

"Did you think up any game plans?"

"Hmm?" I look at Sam questioningly. "Right. Uh, well..." I clear my throat. "We gotta see how this goes first."

"Jo..."

"Don't argue with me on this, please, Sammy. We've got enough going on." I pull away, out of Sam's grip, to rejoin the rest of the group. I hear him follow behind me.

"Okay, look. I want a big funeral," says Dean. "All right? I'm talking epic. Okay? Open bar, choice, Sabbath cover band, and Gary Busey reading the eulogy."

"Done," Sam and I say.

"And for my ashes, I like it here." Dean looks around. "Yeah. You know, as far as eternal resting places go."

The tears start up again when Dean pulls out the Impala's keys. I'm holding it all inside as he looks at Sam and me. I nod towards Sam, I've still got my truck to care for. Sam can have the honors of being Baby's new owner. He's been with her longer anyway.

"Come on," Dean tells us. "You know the drill. No chick-flick moments. Come on."

I mess with my hands as I watch Sam debate on taking the Impala keys. He reaches, but then stops. His head dips down, and with a clearing of his throat, he takes the keys. In that moment, Dean's fate feels sealed more than it had been in the bunker.

"Yeah," Sam mutters lowly, "you love chick-flicks."

Dean chuckles. "Yeah, you're right. I do. Come here." I take a step back as my brothers embrace. Hearing Sam's sniffle makes me do the same. This time, this feels final. He won't come back from this if he succeeds.

"You done with me just yet?" I ask through sobs as Sam and Dean finally pull away from each other.

"Not a chance, sis," says Dean.

I can barely keep myself together. I have no idea how to begin talking to him. There's a high chance that he's not coming back from this and never will. And that terrifies me. As Winchesters, we come back. We defy death.

It doesn't seem like that's the case this time.

My eyes feel as though they're saying a thousand words, whereas my mouth can't get a single one out.

"Here we are again," I say lowly, looking at my older brother. I don't know what makes this worse: the fact that we're at the cemetery where our mom is buried, or the fact that I'm pregnant and my hormones are so out of whack. "If there was any way I could not let you do this..."

"It has to be me, Jo," he says softly. "You know that."

"You..." I lick my lips. "It's just..." I rub my forehead. "You can't leave like this."

"Hey, who knows? I might come back and haunt your ass." His mouth says one thing; his eyes say another. He doesn't believe what shit he's throwing at me. "Just...do me a favor, Jo. Okay?"

"I already know, Dean. Watch out for Sammy."

"I wasn't gonna say that."

I tilt my head. "Oh?"

I don't realize how bad I'm shaking until he grabs my hands. "When this world gets its ass saved for the billionth time, I want you out. You're gonna have this baby, and you're gonna have a fresh start. You're gonna have that life that you should've had, that you were trying for when you left."

"You sound so sure..."

"Because I know it's gonna happen, Jo. You're gonna be free. You're gonna be a mom." I'm seriously trying everything in my power to hold myself together. "Don't you worry, you're gonna be great at it, even if you don't know it yet. I just...I'll be there with you in spirit."

"That's not funny, Dean." I glare at him critically.

"Hey, it's okay to be scared."

That was never what our old man said. He always told us fear was weakness. It was what made the monsters target you first. But this isn't John Winchester. This is my older brother, a better role model than our dad ever was to all three of us. "I-I'm not scared for me."

"You don't need to worry about me."

"You sure?" I offer a warbling smile.

"I've got this."

For some reason, those words sound like his death sentence. I've got this. It's the final crack in my armor; I hold onto him tightly, feeling the baby inside of me pounding. "Even she's not convinced."

"Well, then she'll be one hell of a lie detector," says Dean. "Punk."

I sniff. "Asshat."

"Bitch."

I laugh uneasily.

"Hey, uh, can you do a man a favor and tell me her name, at least? If you've got one."

"Believe me, it's the only thing that's kept me distracted from reality." The car ride to Mom's grave, that's all the time I've used in thinking up baby names.

I press my lips into a thin line before whispering it in his ear. The sight of tears pooling in his eyes makes me ten times worse.

"It's beautiful, Jo-Jo."

"Thanks. Not set in stone, though, but it's growing on me."

"Might be a keeper."

I stand on my tiptoes to kiss his forehead, I just barely do so. "I love you."

"Love you too, sis."

"Go kick her ass."

Dean leaves to turn to Chuck. "Okay. Let's do this."

I feel like Dean's already dead when Chuck snaps his fingers, sending my older brother away.

I'm a few seconds away from fainting. Call it dramatic, but I feel a lot of stress right now. The fact that I won't see Dean again scares me. The fact that I'll have to go through the pain of losing him again is what I'm dreading most. I'm not worried about my future right now, I'm worried about my older brother.

At least he'll know the name of his niece.

"Josette?" I feel Cas's hands steadying me on the grass.

"I-I'm okay," I say. "I-I'm okay." I sniff. "So, uh, got any good places to wait out our possible impending doom?"

"Funny you should mention that, Josie," says Crowley. "Anyone fancy a drink?"

 **Deep breaths, people. Deep breaths.**