PARADISA LOST

Who: Jo Harvelle Max Guevara, Alaric Saltzman -- and SOMEONE?
Where: Corner booth at the Lux.
When: Late, a bit before/after closing. Mostly after this conversation with Sam.
What: Drinking. Lots of drinking and feeling like shit.
Note: ANYONE is welcome. PROSE or [SPAM] is a-okay with me.



It wasn't as if she hadn't considered things with her and Sam different, but she never thought of it as weird. She never wanted to be something Sam could just discard like that. Everything, everything she'd been through - that he'd been through... she just thought that he was getting better. Maybe better was glossing it over too much.

Jo's hand moved to cup to the glass she'd emptied, staring at the ridges at the bottom of the glass. Her other hand grabbed the bottle, nearly half-way empty by now, as she poured herself another drink.

If she wanted to get technical, really get down to the line, she had died for them. She had stayed behind so that they could get a run at Lucifer and then it didn't even work. Her mom died and it was for nothing. If anything it should be weird for her to be around them. Sam had been possessed and tortured her. She forgave him and they moved on.

Maybe being with him had been a mistake from the start. She knew that getting in with Dean would've been a ticking time bomb, but maybe that was what she needed. Maybe she needed something that had an expiration date so that when things got too difficult she could just pull the cord and be done with it. Then things could go back to the way they were.

Really, that's all she wanted. Things to be normal. Years of the road, of the hunt, of being alone or being the one left behind -- all she wanted was something that was stable. For the first time ever and what did she have? Something 'weird' with her ex, who she still considered her friend, another friend avoiding her because something was going on that he didn't feel like telling her -- and whatever it was had cut off the random fun things they had been doing when they weren't just hanging out and drinking.

What was her problem? Really. What had she done in her life that had made her this messed up when it came to relationships? Her folks managed to work out the hunt and the married thing. Her mom didn't really so much as look at another man after William passed. Yet here she was, last chance to have anything and she had nothing.

Nothing except this bottle of Jack and another empty glass.

Pouring another drink, she figured it was a start.