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Joanna Beth Harvelle (harvelle) wrote in wariscoming,

Rest? Chuck thought she should rest? She had way too much on her mind to even consider resting. No, instead Jo was doing as she said, wandering between the supply cabins and noting down anything they were low on. Jo couldn't help but think about other things, too, things they didn't have - namely, baby items. The thought of being pregnant, having a baby, had given her back what hope she thought she had lost over the recent years. This had to mean that they would win...even though Cas had said that god was gone, Jo couldn't believe that she would have to raise her child in this hell. They were going to win - soon - and things would be better after. With those thoughts in her mind, she started a second list, jotting it on the next page in the pad, intending on ripping it out and keeping it when she was done. It was a page with baby items, and thoughts about what she might need.

Crib - can make (John?)
Baby blanket - can get Mary to make?
Clothes - boy or girl?
Diapers
Toys
Shoes
Hats
Gloves

The more she wrote down, the sillier she knew she was getting. She also knew she shouldn't get her hopes up, because maybe when Martha showed up she'd tell her it was a fluke, a false alarm, and she wasn't really pregnant. But she could hope a little bit, right? She could dream. Imagine. Think about what the baby would be like, if he or she would have her eyes and Chuck's smile, if it would be as neurotic about pansies or show awesome knife-throwing skills.

Her thoughts broke off as she heard a sound - it wasn't thunder. No, this was a sound she was more than familiar with. It was commonplace, really, but not from the direction it came. It came from the North, and the target ranges were all to the Southeast. Chuck was in the North, checking the perimeter. The notepad fell from sudden limp fingers as the blond broke into a dead run, heading in the direction the sound had come from. She pulled her own handgun out of the back of her jeans as she moved through the darkness with ease, panic warring with the desire to be quiet enough to find out who had done whatever it was.

She saw the light out of sheer luck from the corner of her eye as she passed a tree. Had it been turned the other way, she might not have ever spotted it. Jo moved in the direction it shone from as she dug out her own flashlight out of a pocket, and held both out at arms length, the light under the gun so that she could see whatever she might have to shoot. Despite the flashlight, she almost tripped over something and shone the light downward. Her skin paled at the sight, and she lowered both light and gun as she dropped to her knees next to Chuck, checking him over.

"Chuck? God, what happe..." she trailed off as she felt something wet and sticky and familiar, and raised her hand. It was covered in blood. She quickly sought out the source of the blood and pressed hard as her eyes searched out his in the faint light from her flashlight. "Chuck, listen to me, answer me, okay? You're going to be okay, I promise. Just please, say something?" Her other hand, the one not covered in blood, rested on his cheek as she leaned in close. "Please, Chuck?"