For the last week or so (possibly more than that as Jo had since lost track of time when she wasn't on patrol or on-call) Jo had spent all her extra time fixing up the bar that had, at one time, belonged to her family.
Jo had come across Harvelle's Roadhouse on the outskirts of Vallo City when on patrol one afternoon and had damn near broken down. This had been her home for years. This had been her place of business. This had been her mother's life. The last place her father had been alive with the two of them.
The last place the three of them had been a family.
Harvelle's Roadhouse was a place of so many memories for her. Not all of them great ones.
Whenever Jo thought back on the absolute brat she'd been to her mother it made her sick to her stomach. Sure, the two of them had struck out as a team after the Roadhouse burned down, but they'd still had so little time together. They should have had more time.
Maybe this place could be a restart of sorts. She was alive. There were other people here who had been dead before and were alive now. Maybe, just maybe, if she got this place back to it's old glory (and possibly better) her mother would be able to come through. She wasn't sure about the basics here, just that it was possible she could see her mother again.
Possible she could see her father.
She was just finishing up getting the old place cleaned and had unlocked the doors ten minutes prior. She hadn't said anything about Harvelle's over the network. Not yet. She'd wanted maybe just one night with the place. One night where it was just happenstance. Where people just happened upon it and used it like it had been used before.
A waystation of sorts.
If anyone came, they wouldn't be hunters necessarily... but it was the vibe of the place. One night. One night where it was like it had been. One night where it felt like the old home. The old way of life. The old Jo.
There was no particular reason for anything Wynonna did right now, and with not having anything to really do yet she found herself still trying to figure out the city and the outskirts. She had a fairly good grasp on it by now, and she had the route from the apartments to where Doc was working down now, but the fact that things were appearing where they weren’t before threw her for a loop.
What once was an empty plot of land between the apartments and the Forest now housed… well. Something that definitely hadn’t been there when she first arrived. She stopped and stared at it for a moment before looking around to see if anyone else was nearby and saw what she was seeing, except she was alone and Wynonna, what are you doing?
She cleared her throat a little and adjusted the gun belt on her hips, giving her holster a gentle pat to make sure Peacemaker was where it belonged - good to go - before walking in the direction of the roadhouse. Normally she would have just gone ‘huh’ and continued what she was doing, but something about this place just called to her. As she reached the doors, she cautiously pulled one of the doors open and peeked her head inside. “Holy fuuuuck…” she said under her breath as she took it in. The place reminded her almost too much of Shorty’s and it wasn’t more than a moment later that she scooched inside and let the door shut behind her. Quiet. Good size. Comfortable. “Hello?” she called out, not immediately seeing anyone, one hand at her gun just in case.
Hearing the door open and the questioning greeting had Jo coming out of the back with a rag tucked into her back pocket and a grin on her face. "Hey. Welcome to Harvelle's Roadhouse. New and... well, not improved yet but it will be," she chuckled.
She took the time to take in the woman at her door. She looked similar to a hunter, carried a piece, (much like Jo always carried her knives), and seemed to be right at home in the Roadhouse itself. She wasn't quite sure if she was the same, but she supposed she'd find out sooner rather than later.
"Find a seat wherever and just let me know what kind of beer you want. I'll make sure you got it and if you want food, just say the word and I'll whip something up." It was amazing, sometimes, how she channelled her mother at times, now. If anyone ever thought she wasn't Ellen Harvelle's daughter, all they had to do was see the two together to know better.
She didn’t quite know what to expect, but a tiny blonde thing from the back room was not necessarily it. When Jo came out and greeted her, Wynonna relaxed a little and lowered her hand that was hovering at her pistol before giving the girl - she was a girl, right? How old was she? She didn’t look old enough to be running this place - a smile. Well, at least there was beer. “I’ll take whatever you’ve got as long as it’s cold, I guess? And a shot of tequila, if you have any of that.” Though after that game of pool with Raylan, she wasn’t sure she needed more tequila in her life.
Wynonna made her way over to the bar area and shrugged out of her jacket, black leather and detailed with fringe down the arms, hanging it on the back of the chair. The rest of her was in a tank top, jeans, and boots. Her usual. “Harvelle’s, eh? This place is…” Her eyes wandered again for a moment, that smile still pulling at her lips. “Reminds me of my bar back home. Well, not my bar as in I own it but my bar otherwise.”
The smile shifted to a smirk and she leaned back, running a hand through her hair briefly. “What’re the food options? I’m not starving but I could eat. Oh!” she said, a burst of excitement coming over her as she leaned forward toward her. “Do you have chicken tenders?”
"Trust me, we've got everything cold and more tequila than you can shake a stick at even if you were seein' double," she answered in kind, smirking as she rounded the bar to pull two beers from the cooler and pass one to the brunette. Popping the top of her own, she took a swig before setting it aside and pulling a bottle from a separate cooler.
"You got a preference of tequila?" Jo preferred Cabo Wabo herself, went down a bit smoother than Patron did, but to each their own, she always thought. People drank certain beers that tasted like piss water too... didn't mean she was going to tell them to get with the program there, either.
She took in the woman a second time, from the top of her head to the boots on her feet. She was dressed in similar attire to her own — tank top, jeans, boots, weapons — but her demeanor was pleasant. So far, at least. Pleasant was welcome for tonight.
"Well, I can honestly say this one is mine," Jo chuckled. "Jo Harvelle, nice to meet you." She threw back her own shot — this was her bar, now, damn it, and one or two wasn't going to hurt — and waited to be given the direction for the other woman's shot.
There was an ease to the blonde that made her almost feel right at home in a way. Wynonna shook her head a little and grinned at the cold bottle of beer, bringing it to her lips for a drink. “Honestly, as long as it doesn’t taste like I’m pouring drain cleaner down my throat then I’ll be pretty happy with whatever you want to give me.”
As Jo poured her a shot and slid it to her, she lifted it in a sort of ‘cheers’ motion before tossing it back with a small grimace and a sigh. “I had a big night with a bottle of tequila just last week, so I’m not sure if I’m going to regret that or not but I appreciate it all the same.” She chased it with another sip of her beer before setting the bottle down and extending a hand - it wasn’t often she offered a hand when introducing herself, but some people were just special like that.
“I’m Wynonna Earp. It’s good to meet you. I like the look of this place,” she grinned. “Did you just open… or re-open, I guess? You said new, so I’m guessing you haven’t had this place long.” She paused briefly and raised an eyebrow. “I just know this building wasn’t here when I came by here a couple of weeks back and now…” There was a small shake of her head and she exhaled out a slow breath. “Shit just appears at random and it’s weird, but I guess it’s one way of this place giving us a little normalcy, huh? Least it can do after snatching us.”
Shaking Wynonna's hand, the blonde rose an eyebrow at the last. "Earp, huh? Like Wyatt Earp?" Jo was brought up on stories of the Earp brothers and Doc Holliday. She'd always liked Doc the most. Val Kilmer had played him the best, she always thought. Tombstone was a staple in her movie collection back home. Would always be a staple in any movie collection she had.
She took her own shot with her and then started wiping down part of the bar that Wynonna wasn't sitting at. "Hair of the dog will always do you some good if you're feeling it the next morning. But, and I'm playing the devil's advocate here, if you drink water after every other beer or drink, you keep your buzz longer and you don't get hungover in the morning." It was a little trick she'd learned early on. Drunk could be fun, but the morning after was always a bitch if you didn't keep yourself hydrated.
"But yeah," she started, looking around her bar and smiling softly at the memories it still possessed, "I was doing patrol one afternoon and here it was, just like I'd remembered it before it burned down. I came back after to make sure I wasn't going stir crazy and here it was. So... I started fixing her up and brought her back to her old glory, moved all my stuff in. It's got four bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom. I'll probably add on to her as I go, but for now... it's home." And from the look on her face, it was well appreciated.
“That’s the Earp,” she replied with a soft snort of amusement, grabbing her beer bottle and sitting back a little as she took another drink. “He was my great-great-granddad. Doc’s around here somewhere, too. I think he’s working right now, honestly.” There was a small shrug of her shoulders, but a soft smile at the mention of Doc’s name. It just couldn’t be helped.
Bringing up the hair of the dog made her laugh a little and she shook her head. “I’ve never been good at following through on any of that. I’m sure it’ll catch up with me sooner or later, but for now I can still push through the hangovers. Somehow.” Wynonna paused though and lifted her brows again. “This place burned down back home? What happened?” It could’ve been a variety of things and as simple as an electrical fire, but she felt like there was a story there somewhere. “Bedrooms upstairs?” she asked, using a finger to casually point toward the ceiling. “Shorty’s has a couple of apartments above it too but they’re small.” Pause. “Any chance you’re planning on renting them out?”
Well wasn't that interesting? Wait— "Doc Holliday is here? Like... now?"
Knowing that was definitely something that piqued Jo's interest in a major way. Meeting a man who she had idolized (despite his problematic tendencies) as a teenager would definitely be pretty damn neat.
"Rooms are in the back, actually," she answered, pointing to the back hallway she'd come out of. "Four of them, including mine. Eventually, once I have enough saved up and can find someone to do the work for a decent price, I'll add an apartment uptop." She stopped when Wynonna asked about renters and really thought about it. Why hadn't she thought about it before? They'd had hunters come through and stay the night for a price, but out and out renters... that could be incredibly beneficial. "I don't see why I couldn't. It'd be a decent side take," she replied, shrugging. "I'd have to able to trust they wouldn't get into the stash of course."
But she could give them a discount if they did stay here. Especially if they put in some work if need be. Help was always appreciated, after all.
"Why, you already asking?"
The look on Jo’s face didn’t get past Wynonna but it amused her in a good way. This was the second person she’d met personally who seemed a little enamored with John Henry Holliday, though she couldn’t blame them. Her own reaction to finding out he was Doc had been absolute shock.
“Yep, he was here before I got here, somehow. Trust me, I’ll get him over here at some point. I think he’d like this place.” Interesting. She had a few spare bedrooms and wanted to add on, but hadn’t considered renting them out yet. Though this did seem like just a good place for travelers to crash for a night more than actually live.
Wynonna grinned and shrugged again. “Might be planting a seed. Doc’s good for some handy work, just so you know. I’m pretty useless with that stuff but could find something, I’m sure… It’s just these apartments they’ve got everyone in? I feel like I’m sleeping in a hotel in the middle of a city every night and I’m more of a seedy backwoods Motel 8 vibe kind of girl. Not. That this… is seedy, uh.” She cringed and took another swig of her beer. “Sorry. I hope you got what I meant.”
The way this woman seemed to stammer over her words whenever she was trying to say one thing and seemed to mean another was familiar. Achingly familiar. But where Dean Winchester would cover it with a shit eating grin, this woman seemed to actively apologize and readjust herself. It was something Jo could appreciate.
"Don't worry, I got what you mean. This place is way more low key than the apartments. Why do you think I moved here? I can play pretend with the best of them, but when it comes down to it, I belong with the rough and tumble," she stated, shrugging. "I get it."
And the thing was, she really did. There were plenty of times she'd slipped into a nice dress to play the part, so to speak, but she was as gritty as the rest of them.
"So... if you're wanting to rent a room, we'll need to write up some kind of contract, I suppose. Crossing Ts and dotting Is and all that." She supposed it was the smart thing to do, even if Jo hadn't always done the smart thing — vampire hunt with Gordon Walker when she was sixteen?? — Jo just hoped that all this meant things here were looking up.
If this had been the Wynonna of a few years ago, she probably would have just awkwardly shut up and drank her beer without any sort of an apology, but there was no denying that there had been a lot of growing up done in her life in a short amount of time. An apology was a lot easier for her now than it used to be and ultimately got her into less shit in the long run, a lesson she learned the hard way.
Jo’s understanding of what she meant comforted her a little and she gave her a small, apologetic smile, almost looking at her with a hint of embarrassment as she took another drink from the bottle. There was something very familiar about her, despite the fact that they’d never crossed paths before in their lives (at least not as far as she knew).
“I’ll need to talk it over and see if it’s an option but I’m glad to know the option is even there. If I can get out of those apartments, I think that’ll be for the better. I’m not used to city life anymore.” Which she wasn’t. She’d done quite a bit of travelling, but Purgatory was far from city living and she’d readjusted to being on the Homestead. “So back home - for you, I mean - before this place burned down. What kind of people would come through here, truckers?”
Though she didn't outwardly show it, the thought of having Doc fucking Holliday living in her home had Joanna Beth Harvelle kind of geeking out. It was the neatest thing. And if they could come up with a decent contract, then hell, Jo might have two brand new people she might be able to count on around here. Maybe things wouldn't be so... lonely.
"Trust me, Jo sighed, running a hand through her hair, "I get you on the city life thing. I am not made for the city. Put me in the backwoods and I'm right at home. Small country, homegrown, mudwater drinkers and storytellers. Those are my people." Which fed right into her next question about this place back home.
The memories of home... they swept over her causing a nostalgic smile to cross her features.
"I lived in Nebraska. It was just me and my mom. And Ash. The man was as redneck as they come, but a freaking genius. Got kicked out of MIT for fighting." Damn, but she missed Ash. "Anyway, we had a lot of different people come through. Truckers, travellers, but mostly... mostly hunters. And... not exactly the deer and rabbit kind." With everything that was going down around here, it was easy to be open about who she'd been before. It was just... so much easier, but Jo would be lying if she said she didn't miss the mystery of it all.
There was something about Jo that just felt so familiar to Wynonna, but she couldn’t quite place it yet. There was no doubting that they were cut from a very similar cloth though, it was one of those takes-one-to-know-one sort of vibes she was getting. And the feel of this place? She couldn’t help imagining everyone she knew just hanging out and drinking, having a good time. The thought was bittersweet.
“Nebraska, huh?” Midwest girl. It was nice to know there were people from her world and her part of the country out there. Here. Purgatory was a little further west but still close enough that she could relate. “Can’t say I’ve ever been there but I hear there’s lots of corn… and good steaks.” Wynonna grinned and laughed a little, finding herself more at ease with every minute that passed. But then Jo went into more detail about the clientele of Harvelle’s and her eyebrows shot up a bit.
Leaning a little closer toward her, she brought both arms up to rest against the bar top, folded and pressed against her chest casually. “So when you say not the deer and rabbit kind…?” She cleared her throat a bit and nodded with her head, gesturing toward the floor. “I don’t even know why I’m trying to be subtle about this considering this place seems full of weird shit. Do you mean demons?”
"Great steaks," Jo corrected, grinning and gesturing at Wynonna. "Do not get that twisted." The steaks were fantastic around Nebraska... but then again, if one didn't know how to grill them up, they were a damn waste. It had been a travesty how many hunters had come through Harvelle's that didn't know how to grill a damn steak. Her mama had to show them up more than once and the fact always made Jo chuckle as she took their money in poker or at the Buck Hunter machine.
Another chuckle left the blonde's lips as Wynonna seemed to be trying to be secretive. She supposed it would always be a part of who they were. Keeping such a big secret from those around them for so long when it came to who they were... it was a habit that wouldn't be so easy to break. There would always be hushed whispers when talking about demons and ghosts and hunting. At least, for Jo. And, it seemed, for Wynonna as well.
But, to be honest, Jo had kind of pegged the other woman when she walked in.
"Yeah. I mean demons," she answered, nodding. Her voice was clear because there was no one else in the bar, but would that be the case when there were? Jo couldn't say. "Before we died, my mom and I hunted them too. But that was after The Roadhouse burned down. Dean and Sam were pretty sure it was demons that did that, too. When it burned, it took Ash with it." Jo would be outright lying if she said she didn't miss that idiot, especially since his "Dr. Badass is in" sign was still hanging on the room that was once his. A room that would remain empty in memory of him.
“My bad, my bad… great steaks.” Wynonna snorted softly but held up her hands in defense, a slight apologetic look crossing her features briefly before she delved into the darker side of the conversation. When Jo confirmed her question, both of her eyebrows went up and there was a very clear look of excitement in her eyes. But she kept quiet while the blonde woman talked, trying not to let her giddiness interrupt her.
“Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there, but holy shit. I knew this place just… had the right vibe to it.” There was obvious relief. Being a demon hunter was never something she’d wanted and was something she’d also spent most of her life trying to outrun. Since it was passed down from generation to generation and all. “I never thought I’d be so happy to meet someone else who’s hunted them before. And, you know, I don’t think I ever doubted that I was the only one. I’m not that fuckin’ special. But! It’s still kind of a relief? Where I’m from, the demons were just kind of… trapped there. But I was the only one who had the handy dandy gun that could put ‘em down.”
She shifted in her seat a little to pull Peacemaker (a beautiful Colt Single Action Army revolver) from its holster and she carefully placed it on the bar top, though her hand never drifted from it. Wynonna still wanted to show it off a little. She was just happy to have it back. “So you’re dead back home?” she finally asked after a few moments, the excitement fading a little. “Do you remember dying or is it just kind of a blur?”
There was a lot that was similar to her home, from the way Wynonna explained it. But, as always, there was a lot that was different as well. "My dad was a hunter. When he died, I tried to follow in his footsteps." Jo had gone willingly, but Ellen had been terrified that she would lose her daughter like she lost her husband. And then she had, but she'd willingly gone with her.
"The demons... they aren't trapped where I'm from. They actually choose to be there. Possess willing hosts and use them as... costumes essentially, I guess. The lower demons, they can be dispatched with a simple exorcism. We have a gun, too. The Colt. Beautiful piece of weaponry..." She looked down at Peacemaker and smiled softly, "Damn near as gorgeous as this piece." She didn't touch it, though. Not without permission. "The Colt is what we have to use for the higher demons. Knights of Hell, demons like that. Ones that are basically the big bosses of the video game. One of the last hunts I was on with the boys, we were getting The Colt from another demon. Dean and Sam were on their way to gank the Devil and we were going in with them."
Lucifer was... it was definitely weird being on a team with another version of him. Made her a little antsy sometimes. "But there was another demon, one that had history with me and the boys." Duluth and Meg possessing Sam still played in her mind sometimes. My daddy shot your daddy in the head... "And there were hellhounds. One had Dean pinned down and I couldn't let that happen so I took the shot. Never saw the one that ripped into me after. By the time the boys got me into the hardware store and got me the stuff to make the bomb, I was on my way out."
The more Jo talked about what her life as a hunter had been like, the quieter Wynonna got as she settled back again, beer in hand. Though she was damn close to being done with it. “That’s dark, huh?” she finally said once she was finished and she frowned a little. It was a lot to process, really. Especially because she knew something like that could happen to any of the people that she loved, so she couldn’t even imagine living it and dying and then knowing. Death. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, Jo.”
And she meant it. It wasn’t a lot, but it was what she could offer and she wasn’t sure how many people in her life cared enough to say something like that. Being a demon hunter wasn’t exactly popular with the locals. Time to distract!
Wynonna nudged Peacemaker at her and offered a sad smile. “Take a closer look if you want. It’s a Colt, too. It was Wyatt’s and has been passed down through the family over the years. It’s really the only thing that could take a Revenant down for good in my experience. I don’t know that any of them were ever ‘higher demons’, just a bunch of ugly assholes who were out for Earp blood.” Wynonna shrugged a little as she looked at the gun and then looked back up at Jo. “I honestly don’t even know if it works here. Not sure I want to find out, but it’s nice to have it back. Was feeling a little exposed without it, heh.”
Jo shrugged, smiling softly. "This is why we're here, right?" It was almost eerie, repeating the same question she'd asked the boys whenever they'd argued with her about that damn bomb. She'd made her peace with dying before she actually died, so that made talking about it much easier now that she was alive again. The experience hadn't been a fun one, but then again, she figured dying rarely was.
"Thank you, though. I appreciate the sentiment."
Noting that her beer was almost empty, Jo moved to grab another one and set it in front of her. "This one's on me. You bein' my first customer and all," she chuckled, popping it open and tossing the cap.
When she was given permission to actually handle the gun in front of her, Jo didn't ask questions. She simply picked it up, held it at eyesight, and took aim at an imaginary foe. It was nice. Very nice. Jo could see it had been taken care of, even though it was so damned old.
"It belonged to Wyatt Earp?" she asked, head popping up and eyes wide. "Oh... woman... why the fuck would you let me handle this?!" She set it back down gently, shaking her head and pushing it back towards Wynonna. "The Colt, it was actually made by Samuel Colt. The guy who made the rest of them. And, honestly, even if it didn't flat out kill demons, I'm pretty sure a gun works the same way in every world. Aim, pull the trigger, watch as the 'pew' does damage."
She quietly thanked her for the new beer and lifted it in a quiet toast before taking a sip, smiling around the mouth of the bottle before setting it down and laughing a bit. “Well, it’s a weird one and doesn’t like to work in the hands of people who aren’t from my family. So I’m not really worried about it accidentally going off or anything if you touch it.” She was still chuckling a bit and pulled Peacemaker back, admiring it for a moment before setting it back in the holster on her hip.
“So,” she said, giving Jo a playful wiggle of her eyebrows as she sat back again and grinned. “Who’re Sam and Dean?
Rolling her eyes at Wynonna's eyebrow waggle, Jo smirked and took the last swig of her beer. "Sam and Dean are brothers. Their dad was real good friends with mine. Uncle John was always at the Roadhouse before..." My daddy shot your daddy in the head...
She cleared her throat and looked back at the woman she was making friends with (or seemed to be) and continued. "Sam was the younger one. Real smart. Went to Stanford and everything. Dean... he's the older brother. Carries the weight of the world on the shoulders of his leather jacket and one hell of a hunter. Ain't nothing in the world those two wouldn't do for each other."
They'd died for each other and if that wasn't love, Jo didn't know what was.
Brothers who hunted. Okay, cool. Sounds like their dad was one too. But Wynonna kept that look on her face as Jo talked, and as the conversation shifted from Sam (who goes to Stanford and takes up demon hunting?) to Dean, she picked up a shift in Jo’s expression. That caused her own expression to change a little; less teasing and more understanding, gentle. Maybe even sisterly.. Didn’t matter how old a girl got, or how tough, when that person comes along it’s all right there on the face.
“That’s how I am with my sister. She’s always helped me, real smart girl, knows dead languages and all sorts of shit that blows my mind. But she’s my whole world.” Bringing up Waverly caused an ache in her chest and she looked down at her bottle before taking a healthy drink from it. Then she sighed. “How old are you? If that’s cool to ask, anyway. There’s just something about you that reminds me of her.”
Running a hand through her hair, Jo found herself a little surprised at the age question. As she thought about it, she really could see the reasoning for how people reacted when they found out her age. Her life had been lived. Her life had been lived hard. And because of that, she'd done more in her short life on earth than a lot of people had.
"Me? I'm twenty-four." Even the sound of the number didn't sound impressive to her. It sounded like she was just a child. And maybe, in another world, she would have been.
"Yeah, sounds like she and Sam would get along real well. He's the same way. And, yeah... you're pretty similar to Dean, too." It was interesting, really, that the first person here she really seemed to connect with would be similar to him. God, she was a bit pathetic, wasn't she?
"How about you? How old are you? And how old is your sister?" Tit for tat, might as well ask, right?
Wynonna wasn’t exactly surprised by the answer, but it definitely made her a little sad. She was just a year younger than her sister was now and she didn’t even know how long Jo had been dead in her own world. She wasn’t about to ask, either. It didn’t matter. It was just a damn shame her life had been cut short so quickly; the thought of that happening to Waverly was what terrified her the most.
“Sounds like I should meet these boys. Not that it’ll do me any good unless they show up here too, but I suppose there’s always a chance, huh?” She smiled a little.
“I’m, uh. I mean assuming it’s the same year here that it is in my world? I’m about to be 31.” Which was kind of wild for her to think about. But also, was it the same year? It sure as hell wasn’t the same year when Doc arrived, or he’d unintentionally time-traveled from point A to point B. “Waverly’s the same age as you.” And about to be older in a month or so. “So that makes sense why you remind me of her. I think you two would get on real well, assuming you can handle overly perky types before 10AM.”
"Apparently there's a chance for everything and anything here. I mean..." She gestured around her, indicating Harvelle's, and smirked as she rose an eyebrow in amusement. It was one place she thought she'd never see again, and Vallo had handed it to her basically on a silver platter. With the extra money that some people seemed to get during months, perhaps she'd end up with enough cash to start upgrading the place... and building on to it.
She genuinely wanted to make it more accomodating for people with a bit more room, maybe a couple more rooms to offer. Though, Ash's would always stay empty. Dr. Badass would always be "in".
"So you're not that much older than me. Funny how the world seems to pick the younger ones to save it, huh? Personally, I think it'd be kinda funny to see a little old lady with her gray hair and knitting needles take out some villain with just a cup of tea and a stern look. I could see it now..." she chuckled. Given, a good chunk of the hunters she knew were in their fifties and sixties, but they'd started so very young. Much like herself. And, it seemed, Wynonna. "I'm fairly certain I can handle perky types before 10. If I've had my coffee and a good breakfast. So if she cooks, if she ever arrives here, she's got a room, too."
The less Jo had to do, the better.
“It’s kind of funny, in a way. Though bullshit for the most part. It’s unfair.” Every now and then she let the weight of the situation that had been handed to her - and apparently others like her - sit uncomfortably on her shoulders. It was something she’d struggled with a lot at first. Turning 27 and becoming the Heir of this stupid curse thanks to her great, great granddad. “You know? I mean, of course you know.” As far as Wynonna was concerned, Jo had died needlessly and way too young. But death was just part of it.
The idea of Waverly showing up here both relieved her and terrified her, because if Waverly was here, then what was going on in Purgatory? Though maybe even being here didn’t mean not being there and that was just… a lot to try and comprehend, even though she had the proof of just that with Doc. “I just hope my sister is safe. But if she does show up somehow, I’ll probably take you up on that offer.”
She took a breath and let it out in a quiet sigh, staring at her beer for a moment before looking back up at Jo. “And apparently I’ve been here before not that long ago, but I don’t remember it at all. From what I can gather from the things people are saying on the network, that’s not… like, super uncommon, but it’s pretty unsettling. You can just show up and disappear like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. “Fucking crazy.”
Fucking crazy. That seemed to be the town motto around here and Jo knew fucking crazy. She'd lived it. And like always, it deserved a drink. There were reasons that a lot of hunters became high functioning alcoholics. She'd lived what they lived. Done the job. And they'd been doing it a lot longer than she had. She just had nightmares of her own death to contend with.
Pulling another rocks glass from under the bar, she poured herself a glass of whiskey. Talking about things like this called for something stronger than beer.
A soft sigh left her lips as she quirked them up in a small smile. "Here's to fucking crazy," she stated, lifting the glass towards Wynonna.
Wynonna watched as she poured herself a bit of whiskey and couldn’t help laughing. The conversation had ventured far enough to need the hard stuff, huh? She couldn’t really blame her. Whiskey is something that had gotten her through (to an extent) some real dark shit in her past and it was always reliable.
But when Jo lifted the glass in a toast, she did the same with her bottle of beer and clinked it against her glass gently. “To fuckin’ crazy,” she repeated and took a long drink from the bottle. At least she knew she was finding people here that she could relate to - and even confide in. Which would make being trapped here feel a little less lonely.