Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

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"I'm surprised. You haven't checked your phone all day," Jo remarked, chewing on the edge of her pizza crust. She leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly. She and Nadia were seated at the kitchen table, finishing up dinner while the soft hum of a classic rock station played from the radio on the counter. The warm, familiar scent of Ellen's cooking still lingered in the air.

"Shocked? I said I missed Dean, not that I couldn't survive a few days without him," Nadia replied, rolling her eyes playfully as she tipped back her beer bottle, savoring the cold sip.

Jo grinned knowingly. "I know, but come on—I'm a woman. I know how it is. You get that can't stop checking my phone syndrome at least once in your life." She pointed her crust at Nadia for emphasis.

"Yeah, well..." Nadia shrugged, but her voice faltered as she swirled the beer bottle in her hands.

The truth was, she secretly hoped Dean wouldn't call. If he did, she might have to face the gnawing truth about Ruby—and the fact that she'd known for a while. And if Dean ever found out she'd kept it from him? That'd be a whole other mess. It was easier to avoid the confrontation for now.

Jo studied her for a moment, then leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "I can't believe you don't remember me ever mentioning Dean before. I mean, Bobby never said anything? He loves those boys like they're his own."

Nadia frowned, trying to recall. She searched her memories for anything about the Winchesters before they'd officially crossed paths. But nothing clicked. "That is crazy."

"Give me some grace," Nadia replied, gesturing with her beer. "It's not like my memory's been the best over the years. Especially when I was on the meds."

"True." Jo sat back in her chair, lips pursed in thought as she drained the last of her beer. Suddenly, her eyes lit up. "Oh! I have a theory."

Nadia smirked, pushing her empty plate aside and leaning on the table. "All right, lay it on me, blondie. I'm all ears."

Jo leaned forward dramatically, as if she were about to deliver groundbreaking news. "Your mom said she wiped your memory, right? That's why you don't remember God and all that?"

"Yeah, so?" Nadia raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

Jo's grin widened. "So, how does she choose which memories stay and which ones don't?"

Nadia blinked, the question catching her off guard. "Huh. I never thought of it that way."

Jo suddenly slapped her hand on the table, startling Nadia so much she nearly dropped her beer.

"What?!" Nadia yelped, sitting up straight. "What is it?"

"What if your memory's been wiped more than once?"

Nadia scoffed, shaking her head. "Now, Jo—"

"I'm serious! Think about it," Jo interrupted, leaning closer. "You were kidnapped by demons, and someone saved you. But you can't remember who it was. What if it was God? Or one of the angels?!"

Nadia tilted her head, letting the idea sink in. "Okay, but why save me just to make me forget about it? And God? Saving me but not helping with the apocalypse? Yeah, I don't know about that."

Jo was undeterred. "Your mom said He loved you, right? You two were close. And He obviously cared about her, too. So maybe He swooped in, saved the day, but didn't want to be outed. So He made you forget. Or maybe it wasn't Him. Gabriel, maybe? He could've saved you from the demons. Wiped your memory so you could have a normal childhood."

Nadia rubbed her temples, her mind spinning. "Well, I'll be damned."

Jo beamed triumphantly. "I know it sounds crazy, but come on—it's kind of sweet, isn't it? To know you've had angels—or even God—looking out for you since the day you were born?"