kore_logs | can i make it better, with the lights turned on

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can i make it better, with the lights turned on

Who: Jo Harvelle and Sam Winchester
What: Some strolls through the forest, and serious talk times. Also hunting.
When: Afternoon of Day 117
Where: The park

Sam's got a few things on his mind. Maybe a few is being nice - he's got a veritable crapload on his mind. Just as he was starting to find his feet in this place, they've got Michael and Crowley appearing out of thin air.

Crowley isn't so much someone to worry about as someone to watch, and Sam's had a few years keeping an eye on the guy to not be too worried. It's still just one more issue on a laundry list of troubles in Cape Kore, at least in his mind.

Michael's arrival, though, had really thrown him. He'd learned about Lucifer's previous stay from Balthazar, and he had imagined if anyone was going to appear, it would be the Devil. Sam's actually been preparing himself for it a little, making sure he wouldn't be caught off guard. The arrival of the other archangel, though, was not something Sam had been expecting.

He should have known better, in hindsight. It's Murphy's Law all over the place here, and of course it would apply to anyone who gets dragged here.

Sam needed to get out of the house, away from things for a little bit. That's when he contacted Jo, remembering his request for her to take him out hunting sometime. Now would be the perfect opportunity to get out there and away from the middle of this circus he found himself a part of.

Reaching the park first, Sam takes a seat on one of the tables, pulling out his gun to make sure it was loaded with the safety on. He didn't want to waste any bullets, and he might be a little quick to shoot first considering how shot his nerves felt. It's a small task, but one he focuses on so much he doesn't hear when Jo approaches until he's got the gun safely tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

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He shakes his head, giving her a tired half smile. No, being too optimistic comes with its own set of problems. He tries to walk the line that's between being too pessimistic and looking too hard for a good outcome. It's a delicate balance, and one he usually doesn't have the energy for.

"You don't have to apologize, Jo. It's just one of those things." It's probably a little karma payback for how Dean was in the middle of Sam and their father for many years. "You guys are family."

That's the long and the short of it - Ellen and Jo are their family, even if they lost them way too early for either of their liking. Family counts, and he's determined to get everyone on the same page again no matter what it takes.

Sam huffs out a self deprecating laugh, keeping his eyes on the forest but not really seeing the trees or what could be creeping in the brush.

"You know, I never thought I'd find myself playing peacemaker like this." Yeah, he keeps the peace when he and his brother are dealing with people they're questioning, or victims. Between people close to him, though? That's a rare thing, indeed. "Usually I'm the one making everyone angry."

Or betraying them, but he's not gonna open that can of worms. Winchesters just tend to screw up royally, and never just half way.

"It doesn't feel like it."

She catches herself before she says anything more, the bitterness in her tone undeniable. She's not proud of herself for being so butthurt, but the way she sees it, she has every right to be. Normally, she likes to think of herself as open to compromise, but this situation... she just can't see any possible compromise that would make anyone happy, and the result is that she and Ellen are now on the outside. That's how it feels, anyway. She can respect that time has passed and that people have changed. That's natural.

Being expected to just suck it up and get over it, however, feels too much like dismissal for her to be able to deal with.

She turns away just long enough to rub at one eye with the heel of her hand. She's not crying, but she's damn close, and like hell she's going to let that happen in front of someone else, let alone Sam. She forces a tired smile when she turns her attention back to him. If he can keep it together after the crap he's been though, then so can she.

"Maybe you were overdue for a change of pace, then." She missed most of the incidents in question, but she has a general idea about some of them -- and of course, she was there for his earlier years and the screw-ups that came with them. "Besides. You always make good, when you can."

The look he gives her is half apologetic, half resigned. Sam's been holding out hope that this isn't something that's irreparable, and he knows when it comes down to the wire both Ellen and Jo would fight tooth and nail with them. No matter what problems have been happening.

That doesn't mean whatever's broken now will be fixed, or that things will be the same. It's something he knows, but that doesn't mean he has to be happy about it. He can tell Jo's upset, though, and for a moment he puts a hand on her shoulder, squeezing just slightly. Not pushing her to spill whatever's going on in her mind, but just to let her know that he's there.

"Maybe." He drops his hand, tucking it into his jacket pocket. "I try to, but there are some things you just can't make up for."

And now he's a little pensive, jaw set and eyes narrowed as he looks through the trees. All thoughts of actually hunting have fled in the face of talking about feelings, and Sam's actually a little glad for it. It's been a long time since he's been able to talk to someone, really talk, without having to hide, or withhold information, or be wary of what someone will do with it. This is Jo - he trusts her enough to let his guard down.

To be honest, she's glad for it, too. Of course she trusts Ellen and is more than willing to confide in her, but the things that have been weighing on her... it feels wrong to pile them on her mother with everything else she has to worry about. Besides, Ellen's been feeling it, too, and though she knows her mother would rather dismiss the argument than commiserate, Jo knows it's hurting the both of them. As much as she hates putting Sam in the middle, he's in a better position to be objective because he cares for both sides -- which makes it mean that much more that he seems to understand why she feels the way she does. It makes her feel justified rather than dismissed. She's needed that.

She brings her hand up to briefly rest over his on her shoulder before letting it fall away, looking down as she tucks her knife back into its sheath. They're safe for the time being, and hunting has fallen by the wayside. Sounds to her like they both need someone to talk to in a big way.

"There's nothing that--" She pauses and sighs, because she's knows that what she's about to say isn't true. If there were nothing that couldn't be forgiven, she would have forgiven Meg ages ago, but that's not the case. She frowns and rephrases herself. "There's very little that can't be forgiven, Sam. I know that most of the time, you're just trying to do what you think is right."

Everyone makes mistakes, but intent counts for a lot.

See, this sounds like something he would say to anyone else. He doesn't really allow himself that much leeway, sadly. It's a cruel fact that when Sam tries to make things better, they end up getting worse. Much worse. Apocalyptic worse.

And a part of him is wary that it will happen again, that being in the middle of this group of people he considers family will only end in disaster. It would be just his luck.

He can't stop himself, though, because that would mean giving up and he can't do that. No matter how ugly the situation, or crappy the odds, it's just not an option.

"There are some things that can't be forgiven." He says this with a sort of finality to his voice. He's determined to make up for his past, but in all honesty he doesn't think it will ever fully be repaid. Even throwing himself down into Hell wasn't enough in his eyes. "Can't change the past. Just gotta learn from it and move on."

And he lets out a low sigh, looking back over at Jo. "Sometimes its hard to. Can't really learn much if I can't take a minute to sit down and breathe."

The year Dean and Cas were in Purgatory...that would have been the perfect opportunity to figure himself out, to mope, to absorb, to something. Instead, he'd tried to put everything behind him and go on. No dealing, no acceptance. Just pushing it aside for half a second of normal.

That worked out real well for him.

"Then maybe that's what you should use this place for."

She was surprised to hear herself say it. There wasn't much good about this place, but Jo was perhaps better at finding the silver lining than most others were. However it had happened, whatever it meant, coming here meant that for at least a little while longer, she wasn't quite dead. Maybe not alive, either, maybe caught somewhere in between, but it was still a second chance. One she wouldn't have gotten any other way. A chance to spend more time with her mom. A chance to see Sam and Dean again, even if their situation wasn't ideal.

This place was a prison, but there was good to be found.

"I mean, I know we're all focused on surviving and-- and getting out." Her voice falters a little there, but she makes an effort to cover it. She should want to get out. They all should. It's just hard now that she's started to think about what that means. "But maybe it's also a chance for you to take some time to breathe and figure things out."

Finding the silver lining is something Sam himself tries to keep in mind, but even he has grown a little too cynical for his liking over time. Not that anyone can blame him, seriously. He's seen a lot in his life, more than anyone could ever imagine. Dealing with that, really dealing with it...it's something he should do.

"Maybe." He looks thoughtful, not even sure where to begin. "Maybe you're right. Too bad we don't have a couple of therapists around, I'm sure we could all use a session or two."

There have been times where he's considered it - going to someone, talking out what's going on inside him. The only problem is he would be thrown into a hospital quicker than he could blink.

Sam can't deny the relief he'd felt that time he and Dean had themselves committed to follow through on a hunt. It was like confession, in a sense.

"But what about you?" The topic of her and her mother's death isn't something they've touched on a lot. Just seeing them both, and then his own state, was distraction enough. "I know how hard it can be to...you know. Deal." There's a tree close enough that he takes two steps over, leaning against it with all thought of hunting forgotten. "Not everyone can come back from the dead and be able to tell the tale."

It's his way of prodding her a little, making totally sure that she's okay.

She smiles grimly, though her eyes tell a different story. It's something that's been on her mind ever since she got here, her own end as well as her mother's. How could either one of them forget? Everyone was so desperate to go home, and she couldn't say she was all that eager to put own roots here, either, but-- what was there to go back to?

She wouldn't even have a grave. She was a pile of ashes, at best. A scorch mark. Not even enough to bury. Sure, that was just her body. She would go elsewhere, but... life as she'd known it was over.

"It's hard," she admits, folding her arms over her chest to close herself off, though she was willing to talk. To him, at least. It wasn't an easy subject to broach with anyone, and she and Ellen had both avoided talking about it as much as possible. But Sam understood, didn't he?

He'd been there, after all. More than once.

"Most of the people here are reminders that even after I'm gone-- everyone else goes on and has a future. And that's great. I didn't expect time to stop just because I wasn't there to keep up with it anymore, but it's hard to feel left behind all the time."

Forgotten. Replaced.

Sam can understand her feelings, even if he's died and been brought back more times than he cares to count. Though (so far) he's returned from death every time, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel left behind or even replaced.

He's quiet for a moment, reflecting on that to himself. When Dean was in purgatory and Sam did his best to move on, it had been hard, on a level that even throwing Lucifer back in the cage can't touch. Sam was alone, truly alone, and though that's all he wished for when he was younger, now it's the last thing he wants.

Does that make him co-dependent? A little. Hard not to be when his entire family has been taken apart by demons and angels alike.

"It is hard. It's not something you ever have to be okay with, though. I think you're entitled to feel that way, since it was just..." Here he trails off a bit, the memory of her and Ellen's death flashing through his mind. "It was too soon for you. For both of you. Seems to be a pattern when it comes to friends of ours."

In some ways, yes, Sam feels like it's his fault for letting them die. And on some level, he knows Dean feels the same. That ever present guilt, just for being Winchesters. The brothers handle it in different ways, but it's always there.

'Too soon' was a nice way of putting it. It hadn't been long at all since Carthage, from her perspective. A couple of months at best, maybe a little longer. It was tough to keep track of time here. There were more things to worry about than keeping an eye on the calendar.

"It's nice to hear," she admits after a moment, shifting her weight uncomfortably. She hates that she feels like she needs validation, but it's hard when people seem to just expect her to get over it. She smiles grimly, tired but appreciative. "You know, I think you're the only one on our side."

And that wasn't how it should have been. They were family. Family was supposed to look out for each other, but-- well. She was glad Sam seemed to understand. They needed that. She needed that.

Someone who understood how hard this all was.

"Come on." She quickly looks away from him, eager to change the topic, despite how necessary talking had been. "We should go do what we came here to do."

It's Sam's turn to shift his weight, looking off in the woods at her words. He can't argue with her, though he knows Dean will always be on Jo and Ellen's side. He's just got some...complications. He knows he can't judge his brother, considering his own past.

"Yeah." He shakes his head, as if to clear it. It seems to be so easy to get distracted lately, especially when he's around Jo. His attention usually focuses wholly on her, and he's not sure if it's because of her death (and subsequent return in Kore) or if there's something else there.

Checking his gun, he nods at her and starts forward, keeping his eyes open and trying to clear his mind of everything else but the hunt at hand.

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can i make it better, with the lights turned on

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Wrapping this one up if that's okay! <3

just fine with me <3