Who: Jo & Ellen Harvelle What: Some mother/daughter time When: Backdated to the night after Jo talked to Aphro (I don't feel like looking it up right this sec) Where: The beach Ratings: Angsty? Status: Incomplete - started as a log, moved to a thread for ease's sake
She knew she shouldn’t have gotten drunk the night before, and she wondered exactly what it was Aphrodite was going to do. But since her hangover hadn’t been that bad and she could distinctly remember Dean pissing her off, he deserved whatever the goddess was planning. In the meantime, Jo was determined to not think about him.
Instead, she went down to the beach, her favorite place in the fields, with the exception of her parents’ apartment. Her parents. As she sat on a rock, she smiled a little, thinking about them. They were the best thing that this place had given her, and for that she could handle even the occasional demon showing up. Or she could if this place didn’t keep sending demons that related specifically to her dying. First Meg, who had set the hell hounds on her, her mom, and the Winchesters - and who had a previous history with Jo. Then Crowley, the demon who had claimed that the Colt would kill the devil, which had been one reason why Jo had been okay with giving up her life so that the Winchesters got away with it. But he’d been wrong, or had lied.
She gave a faint sigh, then lifted the bottle of beer she’d brought down with her and took a small swig, her dark gaze staring out at the water thoughtfully.
Which is just how Ellen found her. Staring out at the water, a bottle of beer in her hand, and a cloud hanging over her that - while not visible to the naked eye - was easily spotted by a woman who had spent all of Jo’s life learning just how to see such things. It was a skill born of subtlety and one that most tended to overlook or ignore, yet it was something that Ellen often relied on. A sixth sense, as it were, to tell when something was bothering her daughter and an overwhelming desire to somehow fix it.
She knew, of course, there were some things that she couldn’t just make better. Hell there were even things that Bill couldn’t just make better, and as much as Ellen might not like admitting it, he had far more sway over Joanna than she did when it came to most things. However the knowledge that she couldn’t just fix it and the acceptance of much the same were two very different things. So even though she knew the odds were stacked against her, Ellen still made her way to the beach while instinctively knowing that’s just where she’d find her child.
She’d noted Crowley’s arrival, of course. Yet Ellen hadn’t seen fit to comment directly to him and really felt no compulsion to do so now that the novelty of his showing up had worn off. He’d done what he’d done - whether by accident or design - and there wasn’t any getting around it. Did she want vengeance in her own petty, human way? Damn straight. She wasn’t intending on going after it though and she could only hope to make Joanna understand why she’d come to such a decision.
For now, though, she waited. She didn’t want to start this conversation of theirs with a lecture. She didn’t want to be the parent that was always fussing at her, always pointing out what she was doing wrong or how she could do better. No, for now Ellen was content to simply approach her daughter and, in a quiet voice, offer a soft, “Whatever it is that’s bothering you, Joanna Beth, it ain’t gonna be fixed by watching the tide come in.”
It was her own way of asking the girl to just speak her mind without actually saying it. Maybe it wasn’t the best way to go about doing such a thing but it had worked for so long between them that Ellen couldn’t imagine finding some other way. She just assumed this would work, given time, and went with it. All she could do was hope she wasn’t wrong.
She heard her before she spoke. Her mom had raised her well, and over the years Jo’s instincts were honed, tuned to recognize her mom specifically. It may have been the step, the way she breathed, hell it might have just been the feeling of her mom’s eyes in the middle of her back. But she knew she was there. The blond took one more sip from the bottle, then held it out to one side and slightly behind her, an unspoken offer in case her mom wanted it.
“Some days I think this place is the best place ever.” Her own words were soft, too, as her eyes clouded somewhat. She was thinking about her mom, of course, and her dad. John, too. “Other days . . . I hate it so much it makes me sick.” And that would be her thinking about Dean, again, along with the demons. She shifted to one side on the rock to make room for her mother to join her, biting back a second sigh.
Ellen took the offered beer, although it was more to check just how much had already been drank more than any real desire to drink herself. She still took a swig though, and handed it back to her daughter as she sat down on the rock beside her. Her gaze went to the water as she sat, rather than Jo. She didn’t need to study her girl to know things were bothering her. She also didn’t need to know exactly what was troubling her to speak her own mind. At least, not right away.
“You aren’t the only one feeling that way, baby,” she offered instead of anything significantly tangible. Clasping her hands together and letting them fall between her bent knees, Ellen heaved a quiet sigh and glanced at her daughter. “This place seems to get as much joy out of tossing curve-balls at us as it does giving us things we’ve needed for some time now.”
The latter, of course, referred to Bill. Both of them needed him in their lives. In their own ways, in situations that neither necessarily had to discuss. The former, however, referred to... well, everything else. Up to and including the demons that were starting to pop up in the general populace. It was with that last bit in mind that Ellen finally looked to her daughter. Her eyes shone with emotion that, while she might not really express in words the way that other mothers might on a regular basis, were still felt just as strongly - if not moreso - than any other mother in existence.
“The important thing is not to let the bad outweigh the good,” she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Not that Ellen had many other tones besides that one, really. Still. “You start letting the things that are dragging you down really change you and that’s when they’ve managed to get one-up on you. So long as you don’t let that happen, that’s what matters in the long run.”
With a movement born out of habit, Jo leaned lightly against her mom’s side, accepting the bottle back when it was given. It was nearly gone, and so she lifted it to her lips and took a long drink, finishing it off. She set it down carefully on the sand next to the rock, and it clinked against another empty bottle that sat there. Yeah, Jo had gotten started a while before her mom showed up.
One hand absently pushed her hair back as she lay her head on her mom’s shoulder, listening to her speak. “Yeah, I know.” But it was difficult, sometimes. Especially when she was so confused by others’ reactions. She was trying to understand what Cas and Dean had gone through, she really was. But without being there herself, she wasn’t sure how to react. They both seemed so damaged beyond repair, but then they would show a hint of who they used to be, and it would give her hope.
Then that hoped would be squashed by their words again, their (or rather, his) attempts to keep everyone else safe, and she would start to think that maybe they just didn’t care enough to change.