InsaneJournal

Who: Barbara Gordon and Dean Winchester
What: Conversing, drinking, possibly final thoughts before shit goes down
When: August 18, 2014
Where: Camp Chitaqua, Comms cabin
Why: Because sometimes all you need in the middle of a crisis are your friends and some REALLY GOOD aged alcohol. OR Because shit is gonna go down soon, as if it hasn't already.


Chuck was dead. The information had flown around camp and the world outside thanks to the journaling system which was still up and operational. But for those who'd known him it had been a very severe blow. No more so than to Jo herself. Especially in the condition she found herself it. Chuck had been so... excited, nervous, scared? All would be accurate descriptions, but somehow with him they seemed to cobble into one big one. And now that was gone. He was lying where they'd taken him. One of the cabins, probably the one reserved for medical treatment and weapons storage. It always seemed to be a bad combination, but space was limited and things had to go where they could. Hell, Barbara herself had a bunch of roommates... or had had. She was pretty sure that the reason she kept having rotating roommates was because of her weird hours. But in the end it didn't matter.

The upgrades to the system in the communications cabin had been a very patchwork job, and it was one she was proud of, but it had taken the better part of three days. And now that it was done she couldn't do anything about tracking what had killed Chuck. These were very dark times. It was obvious by looking around and Babs had the sinking feeling that things were going to get worse before they got better... if they got better. And some days she thought it was a big if.

One of the things she'd learned while working with the Birds was that even if you didn't believe a situation possible, you needed to make others think it was. They looked to you for guidance... The repairs being done she spent the night going through the data she'd collected while the others had been on that mission to oblivion - which was how she was describing it. The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that they were counting down to the end. And she wasn't certain if that was a good thing or not... But one way or another, it would be over. They just had to hope they could continue to survive.