[The woman was right; she had clearly stopped listening to conversation. Selective hearing was a common trait found among humans. Childish creatures as they were. Naomi blinked and suppressed her immediate feelings of exasperation in order to make her argument effective.]And I will repeat myself when I say it was not my decision to throw you into that horrid place. It my decision now and your suspicions are vain. I’m not coming here to take hold of your soul. I’m asking you to begin trusting the angels once again. We’ve done nothing to earn your favour in the past. My presence here is to extend a peace offering. Take it if you wish, or leave it.
You need my help, Ellen Harvelle. [Naomi paused to examine the human. They were always so disinclined to accept help of any kind. Naomi’s offer was one that could not be replaces. In a world that where “us” had once been angels and “them” were humans and their muddied lives, “them had quickly turned to the beasts crawling out of Purgatory. Us was an unappealing thing concept to reconsider. Humans, angels, and -maybe in Naomi’s darkest nightmare- demons battling with the forces of “them”. How sticky it had all become.] You cannot deny that. Purgatory is on your doorstep and your family haven’t a clue on how to stop it other than butchering the ones escaping. When will your family start dying? Because they will be, and they will be soon if alliances are not made.
My family might not have any clue but it looks to me like yours doesn’t either. [She pursed her lips, resting her elbows on the bar. If the angels were asking for human help, or trust as this one was there was something going on. But who knows, maybe it did want to help out in some way. She was sure the thing had its own agenda and goals but maybe somewhere along the line some of those lines up with her own. Purgatory was an issue for everyone except the monsters coming out. It did have a point about people dying at some point, it was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not, it had always been part of the job description.]
[She studied the angel with a careful, brown eye. The thing was all sorts of neat. Clean clothes, neatly sorted hair, even cleaned up the mess it made as quickly as it is had made it. Briefly she wondered how quickly it would clean her up if she agreed and this turned into another mess. The thing was as sterile as an operating room nearly as cold as one too.] So, say I start trusting you, I go about my business, take care of the rifts as best I can with what I have and you give us a pass to the promise land. What do you get out of this?
Looking at the set up maps and news reports, it reminded him of a version of what was going on in the cabin. It seemed to be more by word of mouth and news reports than a few other ways of tracking he’s figured out, but he had noticed a few of the pins had matched up to some of the more significant rifts. Those that had tossed out monsters like an opened blender.
"Just stopped by to check progress on these rifts." John mentioned. Paying attention to a map after giving her a quick glance, eyes flicking over to the weapon closest to her, he walked over to where the poster was hung on the wall, reminding himself that it was only a normal hunter reaction. ‘Not a threat’, his brain supplied. Habit.
Notice the surroundings, notice what could be used as a weapon, be weary of people willing to use knives on you.
The latter might have been more of a conditioned response.
"Also, just making sure it was at a time when my entrance wouldn’t of had half a bar full of hunters putting bullets into my chest."
He would try to amend, but half of the hunters were stubborn, backwater, fools that focused more on killing than why they were killing them. John at least tried to make sure his sons weren’t just cross-country supernatural sociopaths. Hunting was more than just beheading a vampire or putting silver into a werewolf’s heart. It was about protecting people who lived in ignorance, about saving those who didn’t have the means. John was fighting a homeland war, and war wasn’t laughing about how someone tried to run while you drug a machete across their neck. It was getting the job done without thanks and doing it efficiently, quickly, and without unnecessary casualties.
"Jo helped me some with my set up, did you know?" John asked, moving from point to point on the map, checking it with the ones he remembered marking on his map. "She’s good at working on connecting the dots on research."
She watched him warily as he walked over to the map. It had been a while since he had been in The Roadhouse, even if it wasn’t the original that he knew, it was her home. Crossing her arms across her chest, she leaned against the counter. It was funny, she could remember seeing him come out of the devil’s gate. She was sure that it hadn’t been easy in heaven but he got a chance at something that wasn’t guaranteed for all of them. And now she was watching walk around her house looking at her tack filled map. It was certainly an unusual turn of events, even for a hunter.
She nodded, a grim, sardonic smile working its way across her face as he mentioned getting a chest full of bullets. It certainly wasn’t every hunter that came back from the dead and John wasn’t the easiest guy to like as it was. The other hunters wouldn’t react well to seeing him that was something she could agree with him on. They were mostly simple men, easy to please and easy to anger. They’d be up in arms over a man coming back from the dead, with the stink of supernatural all over him. It was hard enough for Ellen to get the bar running with her own reputation.
Her eyes moved from his back to the map that was in front of them both. She hadn’t known Jo had helped him with anything. She was surprised to hear they were getting along well enough to do that given history. Nodding begrudgingly, she did have to admit that Jo was good at putting pieces together. “She is, guess she had to get it from somewhere.”
She scooped up her coffee cup from the table and turned to refill it. “Can I get you some coffee?”
Ellen’s response was flat. Jo hadn’t expected much of an answer but the overly simple "Alright" felt too easy. The acceptance was quick and painless but lacking substantiality. There wasn’t a fight or a squabble over her competence or some form of affirmation on her part. Jo exhaled and continued to grimace, sucking air through her teeth, and taking more gulps from the bottle before her as Ellen finished up. She waved her good hand at her mother and nodded along, ”Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” Watching the whiskey slowly disappear between the two of them, Jo smiled slightly. “Thanks for patching me up, mom. I’ll fix the door, promise.”
Planted in the chair she gave her mother a sidelong glance with a disbelieving laugh. Ellen was giving her a send off already. Jo couldn’t blame her for it; that had been her behaviour over the last few months. Other than the sheets on her bed and the wet towels she forgot in the corner of her room, there was nothing she left of Jo around the house. She dropped in from time to time and tried to keep in contact with her as much as possible. Besides that, her mother was alone with herself. Shaking her head and a pained grunt accompanied the squeak of her body rising out of the chair as she headed towards the fallen chairs with her uninjured arm outstretched. “I’m not going anywhere yet. I’m gonna help out here.”
"Oh no, you don’t." Ellen was on her feet quicker than her daughter could manage on her shaky legs. She put a bruised hand on Jo’s good shoulder, gently tugging her back to her seat. She didn’t need to see her daughter rip the work she just did on her. It would be easier to clean up when she wasn’t worried about Jo bleeding more. She’d seen enough of her daughter’s blood spilled across floors to last her a couple more lifetimes, she didn’t care to add more. “Sit down, you ain’t cleaning.”
Between the blood on the floor, mess of bullets and casing, some broken bottles, and the spray painted devils trap, there was a lot of work to be done but it wasn’t something that Ellen couldn’t handle on her own if she needed to. Her hand dropped from her daughters shoulder. “’ve got the rest of the night to clean. If need be, Benny can help when he comes in tomorrow.” She glanced at the door frame and the mess the hunters had made out of her bar.
Hold my head under water
Take a breath for the Father
[Naomi nodded in respect to the woman, careful not to tread on any toes throughout the conversation. If she had any intention for her own plan to follow through and Ellen to be convinced of her trustworthiness, her pride was to take a backseat. However it would be terrible unwise for Ellen not to listen to her. Naomi had the most to give to her and there were no official strings to be attached.] I believe I have enough information to keep your ears open. You’re a smart woman, Ellen.
[Naomi’s hands retracted back to her sides, hands dangling lightly and open. No malice loomed around her features; the arch of her back only spoke of openness and honesty. Naomi was no lying but her intentions were not entirely true. They were however, righteous.] With Purgatory further splitting into our world times are trying for everyone. I’ve lost brothers and sisters to this war. [The word sat stale on her tongue. It was a word she had used far too much over the last five years.] I make no guarantee that I can promise your family paradise if your souls are relinquished to a demon. I cannot save anyone because of their poor choice to sell their soul. All I ask is for you to continue your fight against Purgatory and most importantly to trust me— trust Heaven. We need to work together. Angels, hunters— in order to save this planet, truly.
You really expect me to believe that you are going to invite us into heaven for doing our jobs? Did you not see how that went last time? [She shook her had and laughed mirthlessly. If it sounded too good to be true it probably was.She wasn’t going to trust something that showed up in her bar, breaking the lights with its power, and offered her and her daughter a place in heaven. If it looked like bull and sounded like bull it probably came from an angel.] Demons? What do I look like, an idiot?
[She could buy that the angel had lost a lot, everyone was losing people but that didn’t mean Ellen believed everything it was saying. Heaven was doing whatever it was doing but she didn’t think it was going to do her or her family any favors, it hadn’t in the past. She could sympathize over family, she understood what it was like to lose people you cared about. Losing people didn’t make anyone any more trustworthy than they were before though.] Sorry about your siblings but I’m not buying this.
"Yo, Ellen," Dean called stepping into her bar. It was after hours but she had left the door open for him after he’d called her earlier in the day saying he’d stop by to help out with the leaky plumbing. "You ever heard of a nightmare weaver? They’re like Djinn, except they don’t suck out life force, it’s like sanity or something they take. You know, they take away a kid’s ability to sleep. Leave ‘em with fear and before you know it they snap. I read about them and now I saw in the newspaper that a couple of kids from the school are dealing with these kind of nightmares and the parents think it’s something they’re being exposed to at school."
He shrugged walking further into the bar. He shed his leather jacket and draped it over a bar stool. Dean let his green eyes sweep over the room, a micro-smile flashing across his face before it settled back into it’s ever present disconnected sadness. A sorry sort of look like he was trying to figure out how he wanted to apologize for his existence but he still hadn’t quite found the words big enough for it.
"Ellen," he called again, boots scuffing against the floor, "Yo Ellen? You here? Help! Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up! I need life alert to save me!"
“You can quite your yammering.” Her voice came from the back room where she had been checking inventory. Stepping out into the bar, she wiped her hands on the front of her jeans and narrowed her eyes at the young hunter. She’d been slightly surprised about the call earlier but it made more sense now. Djinn were tricky and fairly rare, she’d read about them more than anything though she had a couple run-ins with some. Pursing her lips, she skimmed the little information she had mentally recorded about them. The name nightmare weaver sounded familiar but she couldn’t recall any specific information about them.
“Sorry, honey, no dice. Might’ve heard about them before but got nothing on them. I can check my books if you need.” A monster that was tormenting high school students sat worse with her than most things. Kids made easier targets, making it simpler for things to feed off them but when kids were involved it got to Ellen more than it did when it was adults. Maybe it was her being a mother herself that made it difficult, she knew what parents would go through if anything happened to their kids. The corners of her mouth tugged downward into a frown. “Any deaths yet?”
[Naomi kept to her place in the bar to avoid any further pressure to be placed on Ellen Harvelle. A woman known for her hard exterior though by the gentle examination of the soul radiating out of her pores it whispered nothing but love. Annoyance slid under her skin as a worm would find home in wet soil. It slowly ate through Naomi’s soft layer of patience until it found itself full and lingered betwixt her tolerance. She waited until the ripple of irritation passed, feigned thought, and consequently responded with light sympathy.] I want you to understand if had it been my call I would have not placed you or Joanna under such conditions. It wasn’t my place or in my power to do such a thing at the time. Times have changed, Ellen, and I’ve come to help your family.
[Crafting a slow, redundant breath to display her dissatisfaction with Ellen’s response Naomi briefly skimmed over the woman’s thoughts. Honesty and clear cut facts were the way to her comprehension. Naomi’s hands were still left open to the hunter in surrender.] I will leave your bar Ellen although I think it’s in your best interest for me to allow me to explain motives. You’re right to assume I am not here simply out of the goodness of my heart. I would not have bothered you were it not for the state of affairs Purgatory has left us in. I’m aware of the pain we’ve caused you, truly. But your cooperation with us benefits both my family and yours.
[There was a some fort of sincerity in the angles voice, though it wasn’t something that Ellen would ever count on coming from any angel besides Cas. She listened to the angel but she didn’t really give it much credit. She didn’t really care how they ended up in purgatory. It had happened and that was that. There was no going back to change things, no matter how much she would have liked to. Her lips pursed, her eyes still steady on the woman, the weapon still in her hand. There wasn’t a chance in heaven or hell she was going to let the angel just walk all over her, hold anything from her past over her. But she didn’t want Jo to end up in purgatory again. If there was one thing she wanted, it was for Jo to have the chance at heaven. This angel seemed to be able to do that. But at what costs.] You can talk as much as you like, sweetheart, can’t guarantee I’ll be listening the entire time.
[Her lips curled down in a frown. Even if the thing knew everything that had happened to her there was no way that it could understand. The angel was using her history and family as leverage. She didn’t know what the angel was planning but it didn’t seem good. If it was benefiting just her family, did that include the Winchesters or was the angel only thinking about Jo, Ellen tried to decipher the meaning to no avail. She lowered the hand with the weapon.]
There wasn’t anything particularly unusual about her mother’s behaviour. Tough love was her mother’s trademark; Jo had been stupid about it all and she knew it. Not just the hunters, but the demons, the monsters, purgatory. She wasn’t unaware of her own mistakes and with her mother’s sixth sense for trouble regarding her daughter’s welfare, Ellen had to know Jo was keeping something behind closed doors. Nothing completely unusual, but the lack of eye contact was enough to make Jo sweat in her seat.
Jo winced at her mother’s handling as she dug out her bullet now wishing that she had fought to fix herself up instead of letting her mother do the honours. However, she stayed in her seat and let her mother finish up her work. Saying Ellen was pissed was an understatement, a large understatement. She obediently held the gauze in place and observed her mother cutting the tape. Jo had left her mother at the Roadhouse alone— a story that had already been told before. Only this time she wasn’t running away from her family to join a circus of hunters. “Okay I get it, mom. I know. Five guns against two. I’m—” The word caught in her throat, holding a reluctance to say it at all. “I’m sorry.” The sentiment in her voice was sincere. A million insignificant reasons to apologize to her mother and Jo chose this moment in particular. It was easy enough to say her regrets about this particular situation than others. “I messed up. Will avoid bullets and angry hunters in the future. Alright?”
The brunette’s head bowed in a nod of acknowledgement, her mouth in a hard line as she pressed the tape over the edges of the gauze. She knew her daughter was sorry, she could hear in her voice when she wasn’t. She nodded again, rubbing her hands together and keeping her eyes on her daughters shoulder. She could hear how much it took for Jo to even admit she was wrong. Always been like that. There had been that moment, where Ellen thought she was going to lose her daughter again. It has been easy to die, to make the choice to stay behind with Jo in Carthage. The hard part had been holding Jo when she couldn’t speak anymore, when she was dying. “Alright.” Her gaze dropped to the mess of tools on the table. She started shoving them back into the aid kit in no particular order, leaving everything that was bloody to be thrown out or cleaned.
“You’ll need to get the stitched removed in a few weeks.” Pushing the aid kit away from herself on the table, she pulled a chair up and sat down and picked up the bottle of liquor. Taking a swallow of the amber liquid, she leaned back in the chair, her elbow resting on the table and her hand on the neck of the bottle. She didn’t expect Jo to stick around. She hadn’t been there much lately, not that it was her fault, the world was going to purgatory and Jo was doing her best, just like everyone else. “Try not to tear ‘em in the meantime.”
female characters challenge
↳ day fourteen: favorite older female character
"Somebody’s gotta let ‘em in. Like you said, you’re not movin’. You got me, Jo. And you’re right. This is important. But I will not leave you here alone."
The wolfish grin that occupied Benny’s bearded face when something particularly happy happened engulfed the vampire’s face before he swooped in to pull Ellen into a hug. True they’d just met, but really, Benny was glad that she’d been as accepting as she had been. True there was still hostility there, but she was letting him have mostly free reign of the kitchen. The vampire let her go and clasped her shoulder, “Yew won’ regre’ i’…” he smiled broadly and moved to grab a broom, “Yew eva had cajun?” he asked. Best to start the conversation about food and the kinds of ingredients he’d need by discussing what types of food were preferred. Truth be told, Benny could cook just about anything.
And he was fairly certain that he would. Cajun food wasn’t for everyone. Especially when people had very sensitive tongues. The spices were intense and while gumbo was by far his favourite dish to make, it took quite a lot of time, and a lot of milk to wash the burn away, or at least keep it at bay so one could finish their meal. Probably not the best place for gumbo, then. Maybe something else then. That was okay too. Burgers and chicken wings… Pub food. Pub food would be perfect for this place, Benny thought. Gave the right mood off. He blinked and smiled widely as he began to help clean up. The possibilities were endless. And that was the wonderful thing, he thought. Endless possibilities. A fresh start. That’s what Dean had given him.
Her shoulders tightened as the man drew her into a brief hug. Not knowing quite how to react to the sudden gesture she didn’t have the time to pat him on the back before he withdrew with a big smile on his face. She hadn’t known that hiring the hunter would elicit such a reaction, it was surprising. She tried her best to wipe the shock of her face as she answered his question. “Yeah, I grew up in Mississippi, been a while but I’ve had Cajun.”
If Benny was only planning on cooking Cajun food they’d have to talk. It wasn’t exactly the best food for a small town bar in the North West. . She doubted that they would get many people ordering gumbo if it was on the menu. “I think burgers and wings’ll do fine if you don’t mind making those.” She appreciated that the man got right to business after the hug. He seemed like he was grateful for the job and eager to help which was good enough for her. She could understand wanting to settle down for a little bit, stop with the killing for a time and just readjust everything.