Jo could stare down men like the best of them, but even she had difficulty looking at Dean like this. Everything just felt wrong. Had something happened in the months they had spent apart? She refused to look away, however. That much she could do. That much she had to do. Goddamn everyone else who was staring at them. It wasn't any of their business anyways.
The minute he grabbed her wrist, memories of Sam doing the same thing came back. She nearly panicked, having promised herself that nothing like that would ever happen again. Still, it was Dean, and in that respect, any demon would have power over her. She followed him, slipping off the stool and following him. The more she followed him, the more she remembered the thoughts that she had had when she was younger. The warmth rushed to her lower regions before she forcefully pushed it away. She still could hit him.
The door clicked shut and she turned to look at him, about to demand what the hell he was doing when he did what she had asked. She had seen Dean's upper half before, but the minute the last tee shirt came off, Jo was speechless. There was nothing she could have said in that moment that would have made up for anything she had done.
"Oh Dean." Her voice came out in a trembled whisper. Her hand came up, reaching toward the scar that graced his shoulder. That had been the reason why Bobby had been so reluctant to speak about them Winchester boys. Her cool fingers, now calloused with age and practice met his scar. Her knees felt like they were about to buckle underneath her, as hard as she tried not to show it. "Oh Dean. What did you do?"