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heartsonthepitch

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hercanon

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hrtwayne

           ❝ I DON’T GET IT. ❞  Fingers brush back through her hair, frustration evident in her voice and on her face.  ❝ Why can’t I go see them? Why can’t I just tell them that it’s me? That I’m here? They still think I’m dead! ❞  She’s helping the Winchesters.  That’s what she’s been told.  She was brought back for this. But why, with everything she’s commanded, does it have to be behind their backs? It doesn’t sit right with her. She’s come this far, holding back all her questions and doubts because it was easier to keep her head down and do whatever work was required of her, but at some point it’s all become overwhelming. First time in her life she’s let herself blindly follow orders from someone else.  You make certain concessions when someone brings you back from the dead.  But she questions how much longer she can go on like this.

           ❝ My mother is dead. My bar buddy Ash has been dead for even longer. I didn’t get my own personal heaven. I’m stuck here on earth, alone this time, because YOU put me here. The Winchesters? They’re all I got left, and you won’t even let me go see them just to let them know I’m not fuckin’ dead, ❞  she turns sharply to look at Michael, counting off on her fingers as she speaks.  ❝ I’m tired. I’m alone. I just want to see my friends. You want me to help them with this whole apocalypse thing? Maybe I could do that better in person. ❞  Hands drop, and she takes a deep breath, all the energy fading in her voice.  As if arguing with the Prince of Heaven is going to get her anywhere.  She reaches, one last attempt, the lightest touch at his shoulder. Is it even possible for an angel to empathize with something like this?  ❝ Please. ❞

@hercanon​ ; buffy  summers  /  pinned  against  a  wall ; accepting.

           ❝ BEING A GOOD LIAR AIN’T SOMETHIN’ TO BE PROUD OF. ❞  She keeps her knife to her side, but she doesn’t bother raising it. Won’t do much good against a fucker like him.  The actual devil, right across from her.  Jo has to wonder why he hasn’t strung her up by now. He’s talking to her like he’s just another person. It’s the strangest thing. Usually these types jump right to the torture. Maybe it’s coming any second now, and she knows there’s not a damn thing she could do about it. She’s just a human. Nothing can help her in this situation. But if he thinks he’s going to get her to crack that easily, he’s wrong. She’ll die a second time before she sells out Sam and Dean.  ( Hell, maybe she’ll come back again somehow. Or maybe she shouldn’t push her luck, but she’s likely to find out soon one way or another. )  ❝ You’re just gonna have to settle for my crappy lies, then. Because that’s all you’re gonna get from me. I ain’t tellin’ you shit. ❞

           ❝ AND I STRONGLY ENCOURAGE YOU TO KISS MY ASS. ❞  Okay, maybe she shouldn’t talk to an angel that way. These fuckers can twist your inside with a look. Fry you with a touch. He’s one of the big ones, too. Not the best choice to mouth off to a guy like that, she concedes, but she’s already died once. Quite recently, actually. The feeling is still fresh in her mind, like a scar left on her soul that she can’t stitch up.  ( Yeah, maybe you get a little more reckless when you feel like you’re about to relive that feeling every few minutes. )  Jo clutches the knife tightly in her hands, unwilling to part with it. Doesn’t matter if the Prince of Heaven himself told her to put it back. There’s an unending feeling of danger, and she’s not about to let him take her somewhere without some means of protecting herself.  ❝ Look, I was just dead not too long ago. You know what dyin’ does to a person? It creates some  trust issues.  ❞  She grits her teeth, lowering the blade to her side.  ❝ How do I know this isn’t a trap, huh? You really expect me to just go with you without some assurance that I’m not gonna get fuckin’ murdered again? I’m keepin’ the knife. ❞

@hercanon​ ; angel  /  reassurance ; accepting.

          SHE IMAGINES THERE’S PROBABLY A GUN IN HIS HANDS.  Or a knife. Or some other kind of weapon.  ( God knows what else these Winchesters have up their sleeves. )  It’s only logical; you walk in your hotel room and find someone browsing aimlessly through all your things, you’re not gonna have the most friendly reaction. Doesn’t help that her back is turned to him.  ❝ Oh, I’m not? ❞ Jo speaks, hoping he’ll recognize her voice first of all. Hands raise, showing she’s not a threat, and she turns slowly to face him.  ❝ Damn. Guess I missed the memo somewhere. ❞  She can tell when she’s recognized, and her hands drop back to her sides without another thought.  ❝ Been lookin’ for you and your brother everywhere. You two are hard to track down these days. ❞  Her eyes glance at the scattered items on the bed  -- their belongings --  and she shrugs with a half smile.  ❝ Got a little bored waitin’ for ya, as you can see. ❞

           ❝ HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN DYIN’ TO USE THAT ONE? ❞  She could make a big deal about him saving her ass, but why give him the smug satisfaction? Seems like one of them is always swooping in to save the other, anyway. Okay, well,  maybe he has a few points up on her in that category . She’ll make sure to gloat a little more next time it’s his turn to get rescued to compensate for that.  ❝ Congrats, Dean. You just had a hot babe fall right into your arms. Must be a dream come true for you. ❞  There’s probably better jokes to be made. Something about it raining women, or she could ask if this is how he picks up girls nowadays, but it’s been one long ass day, so she goes with the first one to come to mind.  Deep breath.  She’s good at seeming calm, even though her head’s going crazy. Yeah, she probably could have died if not for him. All that near-death adrenaline starts to subside, and now she just feels  tired.   ❝ You gonna put me down so we can walk out of here, or are you gonna princess carry me back to the Impala? Because I’m not exactly opposed to either right now. ❞