Snapshots – Moth
Tori sat drumming her fingers on the cold metal table. A scowling Jo Harvelle sat beside her.
"I don't get it; I've done loads of salt and burns with John and we never get caught. Why does it have to happen this time?"
Jo sighed and shook her head, "Went fine until we figured out we got one of those crazy people who tried to take something with him. What kind of fool lets perfectly good 'shine go to waste by having it buried with him?"
"Rocking this town from beyond the grave," Tori joked grimly.
"Right. So do we have a plan?"
"Call Bobby. No matter what they say, insist on our call."
As if on cue, two deputies entered the room.
"You girls ready to tell us what you were doing in the cemetery, at night, digging up Mr. Andrews and burning him?"
"Sounds like you just answered your own question," Jo quipped, earning her a kick under the table from Tori.
"Shut it, Jo!" she hissed. "We want our phone call," she answered the deputies.
"Well, we want some answers." One of the men dropped Tori's bag on the table – a green leather bag with various symbols stamped on it.
"Know what we found in here? A vial of water with a cross in it. A silver knife. A bag of salt. A lighter. A lot pick set. And two syringes of blood. Human blood. What is this, some kind of devil worship that requires desecrating bodies at night? What kind of weirdoes are you?"
"Phone call." Tori insisted.
"What am I supposed to tell the Andrews family?"
Tori and Jo simply started at him.
Finally, Tori made the call.
"What did Bobby say?" Jo asked quietly when Tori was let back in the room.
"He said everyone gets caught once. He's sending a hunter down to pose as FBI and get us out. He says I'll probably come out of it slightly less dead than you will."
"What does that mean?"
"I think he means the only other hunter nearby is…"
"Don't say it," Jo groaned.
"…someone who's going to beat your b'hind six ways to Sunday when she finds out what we snuck off to do."
"That's just like saying it."
Sure enough, two hours later, a very pissed-looking agent escorted "fugitives" Jo and Tori from the sheriff's station. To say the ride home was frosty was putting things nicely. Jo could almost see her breath, the tension was so thick. Tori found herself fervently hoping that her guardians could see her now and that they would make sure she wasn't viciously murdered by her best friend's mother.
They filed silently into the empty Roadhouse. Ellen put the bar between herself and the girls, so as not to reach out and strangle them both.
"What were you thinking?" she asked, her voice deathly quiet.
"Ellen, I – ," Tori started, but Jo cut in.
"I wanted to help. It was just a little salt and burn, the odds of getting caught were one in a hundred!"
"And you got caught!" Ellen yelled. "Caught by the police, thank your lucky stars; someone else could have shot you where you stood! Someone else could have thought you were crazy people and pushed you right into that flaming hole!"
"Ellen, I didn't mean to," Tori started again.
"I don't care what you meant to do! You shouldn't have let her go! You are a hunter," she pointed at Tori angrily, "and you are not!" she pointed to her daughter before storming out of the room.
Tori waited several minutes before cautiously approaching Ellen's room.
"Come in," Ellen said at her knock.
"I…I am sorry, Ellen. I know you don't want her to hunt. And I know why."
Ellen's eyes snapped up to meet hers. "You know what?"
"Bobby told me, ages ago, when I started travelling with John."
Ellen simply nodded.
"I respect that you want to protect Jo, I really do. But how can a kid be raised in this and not be drawn to it? How can you expect her to always stay away and not want to help in the fight?"
Ellen was quiet for a long moment. "I called John; he'll be here for you in the morning."
Tori took the hint and turned to leave. She barely heard Ellen as she walked down the hall to Jo's room, "…moth to a flame…my only moth."