Joanna Beth Harvelle (harvelle) wrote in wariscoming, @ 2010-11-21 00:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | dean winchester, jo harvelle, kitty pryde/shadowcat, seeley booth |
Who: Jo Harvelle, Kitty, Dean Winchester, Seeley Booth
Where: Camp Chitaqua
What: Jo confronts Kitty - oh noes!
When: Tonight before the Strike Team leaves
Rating: PG-13 for language and ANGST
Status: Complete! Part 1/2
Jo stood not far from where Chuck had been killed. Her eyes were deliberately looking away from that spot, and were in fact focused on the trees in the opposite direction. She stood next to Dean, arms crossed over herself, and on looking at her, it was probably pretty obvious that she hadn’t slept since she had found Chuck. She hadn’t bathed, either, but that was pretty average in a camp that was low on water. She knew that Dean didn’t like this, and to be honest, she couldn’t bring herself to care. Like she had told him, she wanted to look in the eyes of the person who had taken Chuck from her; Chuck, who was the first man she had truly loved. Who was the father of the child she currently carried. She would have this moment, this night. It was the least she deserved, in her opinion, anyway.
Dean was having a pretty rough time himself, at the moment - between trying to make sure Jo didn’t go do something stupid, figuring out what the hell was supposed to be done about Chuck’s death (he didn’t really know how to ask Jo about that, whether there was supposed to be a service or something, or if she just wanted something small and private, or nothing at all), and on top of everything finding out that Ruby, who he’d trusted with practically everything, had been telling Lucifer everything, had almost literally stabbed him in the back...
It had been a rough night. He’d scrubbed the blood off his hands, but there was still some under his nails, it wouldn’t go away. He didn’t know if he really cared. This was not going to end well, though, he had a feeling. Standing next to Jo, he could practically feel her tension, and he understood it full well. Still, he didn’t know if this was a good idea at all.
“Gun. Knives. Now.” Barking orders at her like she was some soldier, and not a friend, probably wasn’t very fair. But he didn’t care. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, except for all the ways that that was exactly the problem. Ordinarily, sure, he’d trust her not to do something stupid - but she wasn’t in her right mind right now, and he’d had one too many betrayals lately, so even his expression was that of a commander, and not a friend, stony and cold and just this side of actually glaring at her.
For a moment, it was as if she hadn’t heard him. She just stood, frozen, still staring at the trees. Finally, though, she turned to face him. Her face was pale, eyes blank, almost lifeless as they met his. She didn’t speak, because she didn’t have anything to say. Not to him, because he wasn’t the one who had told her who Chuck’s killer was. Reaching into the back of her pants, she pulled out the gun that she habitually wore there and held it up in front of him. Wordlessly, she flicked open the chamber and dumped the rounds into the palm of her hand, then held both hands out. After he had that, she pulled a knife out of her pocket, a second out of the inside of her jacket, and a third out of her right boot.
“That’s all of it.” Her voice was cold, unfeeling, as she held the blades out to him, not arguing about him wanting to take them. She then turned away again, returning to her earlier stance. After a few more minutes of silence, she spoke a second time.
“I won’t kill her. I give you my word.” She might as well have been ordering coffee from Starbucks, with the lack of emotion in the words.
Dean accepted the weapons much the same way she gave them to him - coldly, without any unnecessary speaking or expressions, shoving the bullets in his jacket pockets, setting the empty gun aside and pocketing the knives as well. He didn’t want anything useful to be in reach - her promise notwithstanding. He didn’t know he could trust her to keep her word, didn’t know if she could even trust herself.
“Yeah, we’ll see.” It was probably kinda harsh, but he wasn’t really concerned about it. He felt bad for her, yeah, and he would have preferred that none of this was happening, but he just... he was done. Checking out, some might say, ready for the battle ahead and focusing on nothing else, and this little meeting was just a waste of time.
What was she supposed to expect? Kitty didn’t know. The only thing that she did know was that she had to take responsibility for what she had done. She was responsible for what had happened to Chuck. That was all that she needed to know. That was all that mattered. Booth and Danny hadn’t wanted her to tell Jo about what had happened. Obviously their warnings had fallen on deaf ears. The mutant knew the entire time that she wasn’t going to just keep the knowledge of what had happened to herself. She knew that there was a woman that was mourning someone that she loved. She deserved to know who had let an accident of this proportions happen. That was the reason that Kitty knew she had to make her way back to the scene of the accident.
She warned Booth before she left, Danny too. Inconsiderate wasn’t the kind of person that Kitty was, even now, after all this time. She didn’t know how fast she could make it back to the other camp, but she knew that she’d move as fast as possible. Thinking back, Kitty could remember doing a lot of distance running when she’d been training. She was still in fair physical condition, other than what the past few days had caused.
The short woman wasn’t sure how she managed to travel so quickly toward the other camp, but she moved as fast as possible. She was unarmed. Kitty preferred to rely on her phasing, anyway. She had already decided that she was not going to phase, no matter what Jo wanted to do to her. She was going to take whatever the other woman had to dish out. She was trying to ready herself for it. She was trying to prepare.
As she approached the site of the accident, Kitty swallowed. She didn’t know what to say. There was nothing that she could say that would make this better. Brown eyes fell upon not only Jo, but Dean as well. Biting her lip, Kitty approached them, concentrating on her breathing. “I’m here.” It was lame, but she wasn’t sure what else she should say. It was difficult to speak right now as it was.
Booth didn’t like it. He didn’t like this plan at all. He certainly hadn’t approved of it and so the thought of something going wrong when he was supposed to be looking over her and his camp? It was unsettling to say the least. He wanted Kitty to take a gun originally but before he’d said anything to her he decided he would be the gun for her. Kitty didn’t need more blood on her hands if things went in a downward spiral. Seeley could care less. So he waited with his weapon pointed in the direction of Dean’s camp, steadily leveled on movement inside. When he saw a body move, his gun followed.
He wasn’t a cold blooded killer by any means, but he would protect his friends and family any way he could. He didn’t have super powers so he used the abilities he did have. He was a sniper by trade. His gun was a military issued weapon from his days with the FBI. A sniper rifle he’d managed to save from his crossover before everything went to hell. It had a silencer and a view finder to better hit those distant targets.
Seeley was positioned in a low croat zone outside their camp ontop of the tallest vieew point he could manage. He was down on his stomach to avoid being seen, and his gun was loaded. If Jo even made one wrong move, things could go very bad, very quickly with a simple squeeze of his trigger finger.
BIt probably should have bothered her that Dean didn’t trust her. A few days ago, it would have. Instead, she honestly didn’t give a half shit whether or not he thought she’d go back on her word. Her dark, mostly dead gaze stayed on the trees until she heard a second voice, and after a moment, she turned to face Chuck’s killer. One hand instinctively rested on her lower stomach, where the child she carried would begin growing soon. The other tightened into a fist as she met Kitty’s eyes. Her own gaze narrowed slowly, as she waited for the younger woman to get closer.
“Good.” Her voice was short and as cold as ice. She practically vibrated with the desire to reach over to Dean and wrestle his gun away, and shoot Kitty directly between the eyes. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin a little. “What do you have to say for yourself? And I don’t want to hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ come out of your mouth. Sorry shouldn’t begin to even touch the surface of how you better be feeling right now.”
Kitty’s arrival had Dean shifting in place subtly, tension clear in his posture. He was ready, if Jo tried something - he could reach out and stop her, he would be able to overpower her easily. Her words were harsh, but he understood why. Still, he wasn’t entirely sure he trusted her to keep her word on this.
Part of Kitty was terrified. She didn’t know how far Dean would let things go. She didn’t even know how far Jo wanted to take things. She wouldn’t blame Jo at all if she were out for blood, though. Chuck was dead and gone, and there was no way that things were ever going to change from that. Kitty had taken his life and even if it was an accent she was responsible for it. She was taking responsibility for it. She was here. She was here even though she was terrified. She was here even though it was against what everyone that cared about her had told her to do.
There weren’t really words to express how horrible Kitty felt. She couldn’t muster any more tears. None of those things would help anything in this situation. Jo didn’t care how Kitty felt. Jo was focused on her own feelings, and she had that right. No one could really blame her. Grief and mourning affected people differently.
Her mouth was dry, so Kitty swallowed, looking at Jo. It was difficult to meet her gaze, but she did. “I can’t even say...” Kitty stopped before she sucked in a breath and then continued. “I don’t even know how to put it into words. It was an accident.” Tears were bubbling to the surface of Kitty’s eyes. “I’m a coward, I shouldn’t have ran. There’s nothing that I can say that will make any of this better or explain anything.” Her voice faltered at the end. That was all she could say, all that she could manage. So many thoughts had gone through her head since it had happened, but none of it seemed good enough.
“No, you shouldn’t have. You should have stayed, tried to stop the fucking bleeding, tried to do something. Those few minutes you could have done something, before I got there? You could have been his savior. Instead of his murderer.” She wasn’t pulling any verbal punches here, because she didn’t see a reason to. Every word she said was true, and Kitty had to learn that in the world they lived in, you had to be ready and willing to take a life, and you had to learn how to take responsibility for that life.
She advanced on Kitty, anger a driving force behind her words and movements, as the hand on her stomach lifted, fisting again. “You might have saved the father of my child, Kitty. Now, because of you, my child will be forced to grow up without knowing the best person there ever was in this world.” With that being said, her fist lashed out with all her strength, catching Kitty squarely in the jaw with a huge amount of force.
Seeley was watching their confrontation quietly and attempting not to get terribly involved. Dean was there, so far he’d kept a level head about the entire situation. He hadn’t had any issues with the hunter thus far. Still he wasn’t going to be lenient on her if things went south. Watching them talk made him tense. Watching Jo advance on Kitty made his trigger finger itch. Then the strike had him near pulling, but he retracted. It was only a punch. Seeley didn’t like it, but he didn’t fire. Not yet. It wasn’t enough.
He had a scary amount of control over his weapon thanks to years in the Army Rangers. He knew how and when to judge if a killing blow was needed, and a punch wasn’t one of those warning signs. Jo’s body signals were, but he knew Dean was on the ground and hoped he wouldn’t let it go further. Kill shots were always the last resort.
“Jo,” Dean barked, stepping forward and catching her arm, pulling her back. “That’s enough.” He understood her rage, he did - but that didn’t mean it was acceptable, that didn’t mean he was going to let her keep going. One punch may not have been enough (it wouldn’t be, he knew that, it wouldn’t be even close to enough suffering to make up for something this big) but it was all he was going to let her have.