Joanna Beth "Jo" Harvelle (gunpowdrandlead) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-04-07 16:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, dean winchester |
Who: Jo and Dean
When: Backdated to around when Ruby first arrived.
What: Epic deviousness on the part of Jo. Possible asskicking too.
Where: The apartment they share with Cas.
Status: Closed; Incomplete
With Dean, Jo never knew exactly what she had gotten herself into except that it was probably, most likely, never a good idea. Still, the blond hunter couldn't quite turn her back on him either, despite everything that laid quite obviously, and painfully, in their past. It was a mess of misconstrued words, missed opportunities, and yes, eventually, her acceptance that the two would never make it as anything else, but friends and fellow supernatural slayers. The night before she died, mauled to death by a Hellhound-trying to save Dean-she'd made all of that quite clear to the elder Winchester. Self-respect beat out Dean and she didn't regret her decision and even if she might have, Jo would never admit it to herself or anyone else. That night she drew the line, she stood strong, and she walked away, a few years of maturity and experience in the world under her belt making her just a bit stronger and more resolved when she turned away from the other hunter. It was better this way because she couldn't hold on to something, something that would never, ever be real. Dean wouldn't change and neither would the moments they crossed paths all along; it was the wrong place, the wrong time, always.
It took her dying, bleeding out on the floor of some mini mart, for him to finally kiss her and for it to mean more than just tonight. She didn't like remembering his eyes, the green depths full of sorry, sadness, and regret. Underneath it all, there was the underlying guilt, the guilt she knew he carried for his brother, his father, and anyone else he had ever failed because of this life. Jo would be added to it and so would Ellen once the two were blown to smitherens, a tactic to kill the hellhounds and buy the Winchesters time to escape. She knew, no matter what she said, he'd feel her death, like a weight, for the rest of his life. Another hole in his heart, another friend lost, and another reason to lock the world out all over again. It couldn't be helped; Jo couldn't help him now. She was facing death, an unknown darkness, and the most she could do was put on that brave face, despite the tears shining in her eyes, and pray that her daddy and Ash were on the other side. "Make it later." She meant it too. As long as the brothers were out there, fighting and killing the evil in this world, she knew it could be saved. She knew her death was not meaningless, not for nothing, but to keep them alive, it surly meant a better world, a possible world without demons and devils around every corner.
Waking up here, finding herself alive again, and once more facing down Dean had been both a blessing and curse. It was a second chance and not many people, save for the Winchesters themselves, often got those, but, on the other hand, her mother was still dead and it haunted her. Why did she deserve to be brought back more than Ellen or anyone else? It was impossible to answer and Dean's words brought some comfort. Her mother could still show up here, a lot of dead people apparently did all the time, so why not Ellen Harvelle too. It was something Jo hoped for and something she dreaded. Here, on this island, she finally kind of, maybe, had Dean, and if her mother showed up, she'd lecture Jo and kicked his ass. It didn't matter that Jo was not a little lovesick teenager or that she was finally an adult. No, she'd still get the fourth degree for falling for Dean all over again, of giving him a chance when she should have kept him at the appropriate status of "friend". Unfortunately, for Ellen, Jo could be just as stubborn and bull-headed as her mother when it came to something she wanted. Jo would fight to keep her relationship with Dean, even if her mother disapproved of it the whole time.
Jo lingered on the edge of the couch, the faint strands of the classic rock station filling the living room, and she waited for him to come home. The apartment except for themselves today and Jo knew it could only lead to places she knew she never thought she would ever go...especially with Dean Winchester. She bit her lip and pushed herself up, arms folded on her chest, and slowly, the hunter started to pace the small room. Why was she nervous? She shouldn't be nervous. This was Dean and they always got along and he said she was his girl now and...
Maybe, when he came through that door, and kissed her or merely held her, she'd believe this was real, all of it, and not some dream, a trick of hell or heaven, to make her forget everything else in her obvious misery.