Hi everybody! I've been watching this community for almost a year but now I've decided to post something. Finally. This is a fic I wrote for a ficathon at ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
multifandom_pl and then translated it into English (as English is not my mother tongue). ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
manarai, great thanks for beta, darling!
Title: Big girls don't cry
Author:idrilka
Paring: Dean/Jo (sort of)
Words: 493
Rating: PG
Summary: Jo meets Winchesters once again. Season 3 AU. General season 2 spoilers.
Big girls don’t cry
She’s sitting in a diner by the highway, hidden behind a local newspaper, trying to convince herself that this god-knows-what on her plate pretending to be a steak is just yummy, thank you. Every now and then she lowers the paper a little bit and peeks over the edge at the two men sitting at the far corner table. She would rather leave but, damn, nights are cold in Maine this time of the year and she really doesn’t fancy sitting in her old car with broken heating. She had to make a choice: a warm meal or a warm place to sleep. There wasn’t enough money left to pay for both.
One year ago she would join them at their table and then start convincing them to take her for a hunt. But that was before Sam almost killed her, Dean almost broke her heart (but big girls don’t cry so she didn’t cry either), and the roadhouse burned — not almost; quite the opposite, to the ground.
But Jo doesn’t leave her seat, chewing the tough piece of meat mechanically. Everything is different now; Jo Harvelle isn’t a fledgling anymore, she is an experienced hunter with growing collection of scars (two on her stomach, one on her shoulder blade, one on her forearm and one, almost invisible, on her temple — Jo remembers where she got every single one of them) and she works alone. End of story.
She doesn’t impose her company on them, she doesn’t bring about awkward silence, she doesn’t evoke new pangs of conscience in Sam about what had happened in Duluth. She is not a part of the fucked-up Winchester world.
She can’t stop looking at Dean.
There’s once again this stupid song being played on the radio, the one that Jo hates so much as it reminds her of how wee, silly girl she used to be, chasing a man she couldn’t have. She got her mind set on Dean and wasted so much time and effort before she finally managed — with a little help of possessed Sam — to see the reason.
Even if she went there to meet them (not that she wants to, really), what would she say? “You never called”? Pointless. Jo is a big girl and big girls don’t cry and don’t let themselves be sentimental when there are more important questions, like, for example: “how do I catch this damn evil son of a bitch?” or: “what am I going to eat if I have a dollar fifty in my pocket and no prospects of somebody to con out of their money?”.
Jo leaves just before Sam has a chance to turn around. She sees him through the diner window, looking at her table, pointing the empty chair to Dean, saying something. She goes away, gets into her old Ford and starts the engine. Puffs of her breath steam the cold windows.
Damn, nights are cold in Maine.
multifandom_pl and then translated it into English (as English is not my mother tongue). manarai, great thanks for beta, darling! Title: Big girls don't cry
Author:
idrilkaParing: Dean/Jo (sort of)
Words: 493
Rating: PG
Summary: Jo meets Winchesters once again. Season 3 AU. General season 2 spoilers.
Big girls don’t cry
She’s sitting in a diner by the highway, hidden behind a local newspaper, trying to convince herself that this god-knows-what on her plate pretending to be a steak is just yummy, thank you. Every now and then she lowers the paper a little bit and peeks over the edge at the two men sitting at the far corner table. She would rather leave but, damn, nights are cold in Maine this time of the year and she really doesn’t fancy sitting in her old car with broken heating. She had to make a choice: a warm meal or a warm place to sleep. There wasn’t enough money left to pay for both.
One year ago she would join them at their table and then start convincing them to take her for a hunt. But that was before Sam almost killed her, Dean almost broke her heart (but big girls don’t cry so she didn’t cry either), and the roadhouse burned — not almost; quite the opposite, to the ground.
But Jo doesn’t leave her seat, chewing the tough piece of meat mechanically. Everything is different now; Jo Harvelle isn’t a fledgling anymore, she is an experienced hunter with growing collection of scars (two on her stomach, one on her shoulder blade, one on her forearm and one, almost invisible, on her temple — Jo remembers where she got every single one of them) and she works alone. End of story.
She doesn’t impose her company on them, she doesn’t bring about awkward silence, she doesn’t evoke new pangs of conscience in Sam about what had happened in Duluth. She is not a part of the fucked-up Winchester world.
She can’t stop looking at Dean.
There’s once again this stupid song being played on the radio, the one that Jo hates so much as it reminds her of how wee, silly girl she used to be, chasing a man she couldn’t have. She got her mind set on Dean and wasted so much time and effort before she finally managed — with a little help of possessed Sam — to see the reason.
Even if she went there to meet them (not that she wants to, really), what would she say? “You never called”? Pointless. Jo is a big girl and big girls don’t cry and don’t let themselves be sentimental when there are more important questions, like, for example: “how do I catch this damn evil son of a bitch?” or: “what am I going to eat if I have a dollar fifty in my pocket and no prospects of somebody to con out of their money?”.
Jo leaves just before Sam has a chance to turn around. She sees him through the diner window, looking at her table, pointing the empty chair to Dean, saying something. She goes away, gets into her old Ford and starts the engine. Puffs of her breath steam the cold windows.
Damn, nights are cold in Maine.
8 comments | Leave a comment