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Disclaimer: Based on the characters and world created by Eric Kripke. No profit is being made.
Summary/Notes: Set after the events of 2x16 - Born Under A Bad Sign.
"Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad."
Tomorrow I Leave today Behind
Stretching her hands above her head, Jo felt the tug of worn muscles, relieving the ache in her neck some. She'd be stiff in the morning after hauling Dean's heavy ass back. For the past couple of months she'd been holed down at the local watering hole in the middle of nowhere, not even a decent grave digging to keep her busy. Sure, the place needed tending, but she's been used to that kind of work her whole life. Unscrewing bottles and wiping tables wasn't exactly hard labor.
Lowering her hands and rolling her shoulders she gave the place one last look, making sure everything was in its place before locking up. She wasn't planning on coming back here ever again, but that wasn't any reason to leave it looking thrashed. Mike was a good guy, and dealing with an employee gone mia would be headache enough. Besides, her mother raised her better than that. Whenever she'd tried to sneak away from her chores, Ellen would set those iron eyes on her; a stern voice to set her straight:
Now, Jo Harvelle, a clean conscience makes for a soft pillow. Get those tables cleaned properly.
She smiled a little at the memory of home - of safe - and concluded that she'd done her job well. The place looked decent, though she doubted the midday drunks would have much to say either way.
Switching off the lights and locking up, she was tempted to call the Roadhouse, hear her mother's voice outside of her own head for a change. She shot the thought down almost immediately. Tonight wasn't a good time for a potentially emotional call back home. Breaking down over the phone wouldn't exactly spell out "I'm a big girl now, and I can handle myself." Hell, she'd probably have Ash trace her phone in two seconds flat, come rushing in like the fucking cavalry to save the day. Jo didn't want to be saved. Didn't want to need to be saved. Yeah, and you did a mighty fine job of that earlier, didn't you, a small voice in the back of her head chimed in.
There was another thing she'd have to deal with in the morning; Sam's big, strong hands would be leaving bruises around her wrists, not to mention a nasty bump on her head. She'd never noticed just how big the man was, he'd always been hunched over and soft spoken around her. As unthreatening a presence as you could imagine. Not someone who would ever-.
No. Not Sam. Demon.
Forcefully yanking the key out of the rusty old lock nearly snapped it in half; her fingers pale, clutching the keys like they were a lifeline. Funny, considering what the keys led to. She stared at the heavy wooden door for a minute. Never setting foot in that place again.
This wasn't running away though, just taking precautions. Only reason for her to be here in the first place was to stay out of sigh. Now that she'd been found by the Winchesters, it was time she moved on. The money she'd saved up would do for a while, let her do some hunting again. Forcing herself to walk slowly and keeping her eyes fixed in front of her, she never looked back.