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Joanna Beth Harvelle (harvelle) wrote in wariscoming,

After finally agreeing to let someone come over - Chuck, of all people - Jo shut down the computer in her office and headed for the liquor storage room behind the bar. She pulled out two bottles of her best whiskey, then headed for the stairs, cutting off most of the lights as she walked. During the renovations, she had divided the top floor in two; half of it was her apartment, the other half was a Hunters' haven - outfitted with a well-stocked supply room that was lined with maps on the walls, perishables, extra bunks, and roof access. On her side, she had a computer that was a twin to the one in her office, and held a feed to all of her security cameras and her alarm system. It was in front of this that she sat, to think.

The blond opened up one of the bottles and took a swig straight from it, then pulled out a glass to set beside the other bottle, in case Chuck wanted some. Chuck. The would-be prophet. She didn't get the point of his visions if they didn't do any kind of good. He supposedly couldn't tell people when they were going to die, or get possessed, or give someone a heads' up about one of the good guys being addicted to demon blood. As her thoughts drifted to Sam, she frowned. She was conflicted about him - he should have listened to everyone about how fucked up his plan was, but he'd been addicted; there had to have been a time when he started, though, when he could have told someone what he was doing, and gotten help. But instead, he had stayed silent, gone after Lilith, and now Lucifer was somewhere out there.

This was all kinds of messed up.

By the time Chuck appeared on her video screen, Jo was in a pissy mood and half the whiskey was gone. She was tired, she was in pain from where the demon bitch had stabbed her - killed her, actually, and shouldn't she still be dead, she wasn't supposed to be here now, she wasn't supposed to be alive, which was just weird and unnatural and made her a freak - and she was angry. For a moment after he knocked, she considered letting him stay out there, but she finally got up and headed downstairs to the door. She unlocked it and stepped back, then turned and walked back to the stairs without a word. If he was really him, he could walk in. And he'd lock the door, she was sure.