Leaving
How could she just look on like that? Didn't she know how looks like that made her feel? Insignificant, unwanted, unloved, a disgrace to him; was that really all that she was? All that she could ever amount to?
God, sometimes she just wanted to rip it all apart! So what if she had just screwed up this time on the job? So what if she seemed to have a death wish?
She couldn't help the fact that Mom just didn't understand. She couldn't understand how she wanted to rip up every werewolf that she heard about, couldn't understand that this was as close as she could get to her father, that this was as close to normal as she could get.
That every time a hunter came walking through those doors speaking of how they had helped make the world better, how they were proud of destroying evil and fighting the good fight. How she could almost taste the freedom that they exuded from them, the scent of the road, rock salt, and musty books following them. The tendrils leading her outside of The Roadhouse, tempting her to try her on brand of justice on the evils that had ripped her father from them, from her.
She was so close, stuffing a variety of clothing into the duffel bag in front of her; a blouse and smart skirt, a parka, jeans, slacks, graphic t-shirts, a hoodie, among other items. Methodical in her purpose, the blond kept packing while her Mom kept on just staring at her, reaching for the cash that she had kept split in the bed frame, the toilet, and the ceiling since she had started hustling in the bar. She had just packed some toiletries when her mother started trying to reason with her, but she just let it buzz over her like flies.
She grabbed the case and clicked it open, her knives on display for her to double-check, she didn't want to forget anything. As she snapped the briefcase closed again she grabbed her laptop and brought it out to the growing pile of things. She had always thought she had not had alot until she had started trying to pack a whole life into her trunk.
Huh. Her Mom was yelling now, getting desperate now that she knew intimidation obviously wasn't working. She grabbed her father's old leather duster, luckily he had not been a big man. God, it just hurt to think about him, but she wouldn't stop now. She was just too fucking close. She made sure her combats were thoroughly laced one last time before walking past Ash who looked almost heartbroken at seeing her leaving. She looked at her mother one last time, making Ellen stop yelling and really look at her.
"Jo, honey, don't do this to me. I can't do this again."
"Mom, I have to, and if you cannot accept that, then I have to go. I have to."
"I'm just trying to protect you. You're my baby."
"Mo-"
"No. Joanna Beth, you listen to me. You are all I have left. Please. Don't do this."
"Goodbye Mom."
Jo walked out of The Roadhouse, just looking out. There was no new sunrise to greet her, no sunset to close a chapter of her life, no symbolic rain wating to shower her with the onslaught of her emotions. Not even a bright, sunny day or a starry night.
Just a moonless, cloudy night that seemed to consume everything in sight except The Roadhouse itself, and the spare columns of light that a clunker of a truck produced, heading away from The Roadhouse, lost in the heavy night.