cape_kore | ✘ Jo Harvelle | 001 | Video/Possible Action

[The young woman peering into the camera looks more than a little worse for wear, her lower lip split open and the side of her face streaked with dried blood. She rakes her hair away from her face, revealing a long but shallow cut on her forehead, no doubt responsible for at least some of the blood, though there's too much for that to be her only injury.

She rubs the heel of her hand against her eye, grimacing as she sets her jaw, giving a quick, anxious glance over her right shoulder before turning her attention back to the video feed.]

Whatever's going on, I'm not laughing. If there's anyone out there who can offer an explanation, I'm all ears.

[A communication device meant that someone had to be out there listening, didn't it? Honestly, she doubts anyone thinks this is some kind of joke. She's pretty sure she hadn't made it out of that hardware store alive. So what the hell was this?

It wasn't like any afterlife she'd ever imagined.

She looks hesitant, biting at her lower lip for a moment before speaking again.]

Mom? Sam, Dean?

[They'd been there. They couldn't have gotten far before -- well. Before this. It was worth asking, wasn't it? Whatever was going on, she'd feel a lot better knowing they were in this together. Or maybe it really was some kind of run-down afterlife. Maybe she really was alone.

God. She hoped not.]

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[Were the circumstances different, she might have pulled away in silent protest, insisting on being an adult that didn't need coddling, but at the moment? Damn, it was good to see her. Jo wasn't all that interested in power struggles or arguments right now.

She lets Ellen cup her face without protest, smiling as she lays a hand on her mother's shoulder in reply, squeezing it in an attempt to reassure her. She was real. They both were. Real and in-tact. That was all she could ask for.]

Little bit of everything, but I think I'm all right. Wasn't expecting to be.

[Really, she hurts like hell. Everything aches and her legs feel like rubber, but she's standing and she's whole and right now, that's a hell of a lot.]

What about you? You're okay, right? What's going on here, anyway?

[Yeah, never getting treated like an adult again. Last time she did that... Ellen can't. She just can't remember that. Because it still hurts and makes her want to throw up.

Ellen slips an arm around Jo's waist and heads for the bar.]

I'm fine. Got patched up alright.

[She leaves the part out about where Dean was a trickster at the time. Mostly, she's just not processing well right at the moment.]

I don't know, yet. People are getting kidnapped to here and then getting kidnapped out. There's angels and that bitch Meg here. And then there's others, not from our world. Someone said alternate dimension, rather than the afterlife.

[Ellen isn't sure that she believes it, but she sure as hell wouldn't have chosen this afterlife for herself.]

You tell Dean you're staying with me and not going anywhere near that house of his.

[She stumbles a little as she finds herself forcibly lead towards the bar, her legs working against her, though she manages to regain her balance and keep up well enough. She shoots her mother a puzzled look -- it's a lot of information at once, and while most of it is useful, there's one particular bit that she zeroes in on.]

Yeah, I know she's here. She answered my message.

[She doesn't sound too thrilled about that, and understandably so.]

What are you talking about? If he's here, I wanna see him.

[Why put a ban on Dean's place? She knew her mother was overprotective, but even that should have its limits. It seems out of place -- Dean is family. Seems like a weird thing to discourage, especially in a place where she's positive they should all be sticking together.]

[That muscle ticks in her jaw. That one that does when she's so beyond annoyed and can't quite fathom what she's staring at. Except this time, it comes with a hardness in her eyes and a narrowing that she usually reserved for Hunters that were getting out of line and needed taken down a peg.]

He can come to you. He's living with the demon.

[The words are harsh, filled with hate. She loves Dean. She will take care of Dean and be his family for as long as he lets her. But she cannot forgive him for living with the demon responsible for Jo's death. No matter what else happened, that's just unfathomable to her.]

[It's a brief explanation, short and to the point, which makes it even more of a slap in the face. Jo looks almost stricken for a moment before she furrows her eyebrows, pursing her lips and looking more disapproving than she's managed in awhile.

If anyone ever told her just how much she looked like Ellen in those moments, it probably would have ruffled her feathers, but there was no denying it.]

Why the hell would he be living with a demon?

[Any demon. The fact that it was Meg made it worse. More confusing.

She's distracted by further questioning by a pain in her side, grimacing as she presses one hand against the side of her abdomen to steady herself.]

... guess I can ask questions later.

[Ellen huffs out a breath. She asks the same damn thing of herself every night. She doesn't know. She can't figure it out. No matter what's changed, no matter what else had happened, Meg is still a demon and that's what matters.

The movement draws a sharp look from Ellen. She's got bigger problems than a demon. She needs to get her baby girl to safety, and get her cleaned up.

Her hip nudges open the backdoor to the bar. Moving slowly, she lowers Jo down onto the bed. Her fingers brush hair out of Jo's face. Ellen even manages to dredge up a smile from somewhere.]

There, we'll get you cleaned up and stitched up. Everything's going to be fine.

[Jo lets her mother guide her without much resistance, willing to give up fighting her on every little thing -- just this once. Desperate times and all. She's sure they'll be back to affectionately butting heads in no time, but right now? She's happy to be standing upright, happy to see her mother in one piece. That's what matters at the moment. She can ask questions about Dean and demons and everything else under the sun later.]

Do you remember what happened?

[She winces as she scoots back a little on the bed, moving so that she can lay back against the headboard, slowly adjusting things so she can prop herself up with the pillow there.]

Before this place, I mean.

[The question makes that muscle in her jaw tick. She concentrates on spreading out the supplies to help Jo. For now, that's more important.]

I remem -

[Her voice cracks just the tiniest bit. She won't say that.]

Remember Carthage.

[Because that's the big bit. She's not going into detail. She can't relive that again. She can't.]

[Jo clenches her own jaw, gritting her teeth. Carthage. It was the same for both of them, then. She nods stiffly, gripping at the bedclothes to steady herself.]

That's what I remember, too.

[That's all that needs to be said. She feels something get caught in her throat as she studies Ellen's face, the familiar and unwelcome warmth of tears beginning to well up behind her eyes. She hates the idea of anyone seeing her cry, but it was nothing her mother hadn't seen before -- and if there ever was a time to let those tears fall, it was now.]

I'm glad you're okay. I didn't think --

[She cuts herself off, swallowing hard as she composes herself.]

I thought that was our last chance.

[No, baby girl, don't... don't cry, because she remembers holding you next to her when you breathed your last and she just... she can't. Instead, she reaches out and presses Jo's forehead against her own.]

We're too damned ornery to kill that easy.

[It's weak and broken, and she's blinking back tears. Because her baby girl is hurting and Ellen just wants to fix it and she's not sure she can. Not without help.]

We got a second chance here. We'll make it work. Just like we always do.

[Her thumbs brush against Jo's cheekbones. Her baby girl. Bill would be proud of her.]

Now, let's put all this sappy shit to the side and get you cleaned up, huh?

[There are actual tears to be brushed away when Ellen runs her thumbs along her cheek, and she manages to choke back a sob before it can escape, forcing a smile instead. Mom always knew exactly what to say. Even at the worst of times. Whatever Jo needed to hear, Ellen always came through.

She'd never given her enough credit for that.]

... yeah. Yeah, okay.

[Harvelle women didn't go down that easily. They'd make it through this, like they made it through everything else.]

✘ Jo Harvelle | 001 | Video/Possible Action | Day 74

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