( Honestly, Jo was glad Dean hadn't tried to bring her back. If he'd risked himself like that to get rid of some stupid guilt over how her death was somehow his fault, she honestly would have punched him. And he'd have deserved it too. The way she saw it, if she died hunting, then that was her choice and they could just accept that. For now though, it seemed that someone else had decided that she needed to stick around. And she wasn't gonna complain about that. She just wished Ellen was around. Part of her wanted to ask Dean about her mom, if she was okay and if she'd made it out all right, but she was almost afraid to hear the answer. )

Good. You've made enough stupid calls for one lifetime. No need to go adding more. ( She was all for his plan of getting to cover now, if only so she could sit and rest. Apparently gut wounds, even stitched up, were painful and wore you out. ) Can't just tell me not to worry, Dean. But I'll drop it for now. Just know you're not avoiding the question forever. ( She spared a look at Castiel, her own expression concerned ) Why isn't he waking up?

( She gave him a 'Bitch please' look ) My shirt's clawed all to hell and covered in blood. No way am I keeping it on. ( Shrugging off her jacket, she yanked off her shirt - only wincing slightly at the pull of her stitches - and held a hand out. Who cared if people looked? There was no way she was keeping that thing on. ) Shirt. Now. Please.