Jo doesn't even notice the girl watching her. If she was honest about any parallel, if she even thought of it, she probably looked like any of the blood-speckled hayseed hunters that blew in those doors, taking that first hungry look around the room, taking that first laugh half-black, and that first drink somewhere safe, and known, the first gasp after drowning. But she doesn't.
She tries really hard not to think of home. It doesn't exist. None of those things do anymore. Not for any of them (even if it'd never been for her to begin with).
She looks up at the question that draws her back from the thoughts she's definitely not having.
"If only," Jo frowns. She needs to know everything, and that's apparently now the size of a whole new world. That she can't leave. And has Dean Winchester, of all people, in it. "Hey," Jo catches sight of the half, maybe less, of something that instinctually looks too familiar on the younger girl's arm. "What's that?"
no subject
She tries really hard not to think of home.
It doesn't exist. None of those things do anymore.
Not for any of them (even if it'd never been for her to begin with).
She looks up at the question that draws her back from the thoughts she's definitely not having.
"If only," Jo frowns. She needs to know everything, and that's apparently now the size of a whole new world. That she can't leave. And has Dean Winchester, of all people, in it. "Hey," Jo catches sight of the half, maybe less, of something that instinctually looks too familiar on the younger girl's arm. "What's that?"