Title: Regrets
Fandom: SPN
Author: ice shredder
POV: Ellen's
Characters: Ellen, Jo, mentions of Meg and the Winchesters
Spoilers: episode 5x10, the explosion scene
Disclaimer: don't own it peeps!
Summary: The bleeding wouldn't stop. Even when her eyes and head were telling her that her only child is dying, her heart cracked open, and her limbs went on autopilot.
When Ellen, Jo, and the Winchesters encountered the she-demon known as Meg in the street of an abandoned backwater town, the thought never crossed Ellen's mind it would be the last day of the rest of her life. All her focus was on the smirking demon standing cockily across the cracked street mocking her mortal enemy Dean. He responded harshly cocking the Colt without hesitation at her meatsuit's heart.
"Didn't come here alone, Dean-o," she sneered, hands jammed loosely into her jeans pockets, uncannily stable in a pair of ridiculously high-heeled boots. The heels alone were a good four inches, not practical in a street-fight but Ellen imagined they could gouge an opponent's flesh if she chose to do so. They gave her the appearance of an Old West gunslinger. If she had a holster strapped to her hip, the outfit would be complete.
Growling, barking sounds came from behind Meg. The slap of an invisible tail into a puddle of water told her that things just went from bad to worse.
"Hellhounds!" Dean exclaimed roughly.
"Yeah Dean. Your favorite," She said mockingly.
Ellen stopped listening the moment Meg said something about her father wanting to see the boys. We have to get out of here. Dean, for the love of God, just pull the damn trigger already!
"After them, boys!" Meg commanded smugly. The group took off running for their lives down the street, the barks and yowls of the hounds directly behind them, Meg's evil laughter echoing in their ears. A yell caused everyone to turn in their tracks.
Dean was down, in danger of being mauled to death by the beast that seized his legs.
"Dean!"
Jo!
Her daughter strode fearlessly back to Dean's prone position firing round after round of consecrated shot into the foul hide of the hellhound, ignoring his shouted warnings for her to stay back. The hound withdrew for a mere second before pouncing on Jo's unprotected back.
Blood stained her plaid shirt, sprayed all over her neck and chin like a fine paint. Jo screamed in agony as her guts were shredded by merciless claws.
"NO!" Her worst nightmare was coming to life in vivid Technicolor. Dean scooped Jo up into his arms and they rushed into the open door of a hardware shop firing their guns as they went. Sam and Dean quickly padlocked the door shut then poured a giant line of salt in front of the door and around the window panes.
"I need some help here!" She pressed her hand into the gaping hole in Jo's side. The bleeding wouldn't stop. Even when her eyes and head were telling her that her only child is dying, her heart cracked open, and her limbs went on autopilot.
Of all the people in the world she could've died to save why did it have to be John Winchester's eldest son?
Jo didn't deserve to die like this dammit! She was supposed to live a full life, grow old with a man who accepted who she was and what she did for a living and have a child to keep the family business going. Her husband wasn't supposed to die in a filthy reservoir. She wasn't planning on being a widow in her forties having to run Bill's business by herself and unable to keep her precious daughter from knowing what goes bump in the night and how to hunt it.
The boys were trying to help staunch the flow of blood but Jo waves them off. She knows her time is up. The Reaper has her number. She weakly tells them to rig a jury bomb. Dean leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips, on her sweaty forehead. Ellen watched in silence, pained by his gentle actions; of knowing what could've been for Jo. Thinking if maybe if they'd treated the boys differently the day they stepped foot into her Roadhouse her baby girl wouldn't be bleeding to death on the cold floor of a hardware store in the middle of nowhere.
In light of Jo's last wish Ellen came to a decision. She will not leave her daughter to die alone. She tells the boys to leave. Her tone brooked no argument and they take a long last look at her and Jo smiling bravely through the pain as her life ebbs away.
She walked resolutely up to the door and purposefully unlocks it, scuffing the salt barrier away with her boot. Deliberately opening the place to attack. That done she settles down beside Jo whose strong, delicate hand is wrapped around a grenade, her thumb on the pin.
It didn't take long before the baying of the hellhounds filled the store. Ellen straightened, preparing to go out fighting.
"I will always love you," she whispered to Jo who remained silent. The clatter of a metal tin pulled her eyes away. In that moment, Jo succumbed to her wounds and passed on, without a whimper. Her head slumped against her mother's shoulder.
Ellen released a choked, soul-wrenching sob, her soul flying out of her body along with her dead daughter in her arms.
"It's ok," she rasped brokenly, kissing Jo's still head her shaking hand wrapped comfortingly around her daughter's blond curls. "It's ok. That's my good girl."
The barking was closer now. She bravely pulled herself together; her hand tightening on the trip string of the makeshift bomb. One shot. She only has one chance to spite the evil she-demon who did this and prays that the boys will one day send her to hell where she belongs.
A nasty breeze stirred her hair and lips trembling, she quirks them into a quivery smile.
"You can go straight back to hell you ugly bitch!" she snarled and depresses the trigger.
The explosion devoured the store and she thinks right before her consciousness is shattered.
Win boys.
-end