SPN drabble: Coming in from the cold

[maharetr]

Title: Coming in from the cold
Author: maharetr
Rating/Genre/word count: G/Gen/100
Characters: Ellen, mentions of Jo.
Warning/Spoilers: Implied character death/set in the latter part of season two.
Written as part of mini_nanowrimo \o/.



The jeans on the line are so dry they’re bleached white down one side, but Ellen had left them hanging. Overlooked in the packing post-argument they were a reminder, like every postcard she’d tacked to the Roadhouse wall, that Jo was still out there, equally laughing and sulking, alive.

Ellen goes and sits on the back stoop, watching the jeans sway in the evening breeze. There haven’t been any postcards, not for months now, and all the passers-through shrug or shake their heads.

It’s long after dark before she can steel herself to bring the jeans in from the line.

Comments

[jenniebellie.livejournal.com]

Oh God, this is so sad. Wonderful, thank you!

[maharetr.livejournal.com]

My pleasure! Thank you! :)

[katriel1987.livejournal.com]

Oh, ow. Lovely and understated and sad.

[maharetr.livejournal.com]

Yay! Thank you -- I'm glad to know it worked :)

[tsuki-no-bara.livejournal.com]

the sad thing is, i can see this kind of thing happening, ellen hearing from jo less and less and then not at all. :( (altho i like to think jo's still out there, sulking and sassing and learning how to kill things.)

[maharetr.livejournal.com]

Me, too, alas :( I really liked Jo in No Exit -- just finding her feet in the hunting world. As much as I want her to be kicking arses and taking names, I think Jo on her own wouldn't last very long. There's a haunting line in a fic I read from way back, something aboutt all the middle-aged hunters (that we see on the show)? are the tiny, tiny minority of people who lived through their first, and second, and third hunts... *shivers*