☠
SEND ☠ FOR A DEATH HEADCANON .
i. she’s ten and long blonde locks are twisted into a braid from the expert hands of her mother . just a girl, A HOTHOUSE FLOWER, sheltered from a lifestyle she was born to lead . but you’re far from fragile, aren’t you, young artemis ? with your bow and arrow and eyes burning like molten gold ; you’re merely ten, but you’ve seen and heard of things many don’t see in a lifetime . MONSTERS UNDER THE BED / MONSTERS IN YOUR HEAD . death has always had a hand in her life, but it isn’t until word reaches the roadhouse that it becomes harrowingly real : BILL HARVELLE IS DEAD . killed during a hunt . jo is given no more details as there’s no more to hear ( or perhaps ellen simply won’t tell ? ), but it’s then that the reaper’s hand touches her . a shadow, looming, but not quite taking her along with him . her heart BREAKS for her father . and it beats out a single word : dead . dead . dead . dead .
ii. the year’s 2001 and she’s sixteen . the braid is replaced with a perky ponytail and youthful smile gave way to teasing grins . bold, determined, dauntless . AND CRUSHING ON AN OLDER HUNTER ? ( foolish, foolish, foolish, whispers the wind through the cracks in the roadhouse walls . ) gordon would never lead her astray, she knows he wouldn’t, so jo ends up accompanying him on a mission . BUT FEAR WEARS A FAMILIAR FACE — she becomes bait . for the rawhead, for gordon, for the icy finger running down her back that tells her this is where her innocence is ripped away from her . THAT DAY, GORDON WALKER KILLED A GIRL . that hunt, he removed some of the youthful blind trust from her eyes . THAT DAY, jo discovered what it felt like to have your own girlhood stamped out and spit on . BUT KILLERS ALWAYS RETURN TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME, and jo made it far too easy for him .
iii. 2005 and the great gig in the sky’s opening riff floats wistfully through the air of the roadhouse . something in jo’s gut is swirling swirling swirling — telling her through this vague sense of unease that she’s not going to like what she finds once this computer loads . she’s just checking her email ; nothing unusual . she’d done this every day since rick left for a hunt in kentucky . ( DON’T FOOL YOURSELF, GIRL, IT’S BEEN DAYS SINCE HIS LAST MESSAGE . ) contact every day he was gone . . . and then an abrupt nothing ? he’s fine he’s fine he’s fine . the mantra jo had been telling herself for nearly a week now . the computer screen loads, and for a moment jo feels her hopeful heart in her throat — but the last message remains . no email, no phone call, no message from any of his partners . HE MAY NOT BE DEAD, BUT THAT DAY JO MOURNS HIM AS IF HE WAS . then she locks it all up . compartmentalize, compartmentalize, compartmentalize . ( the jukebox tune holds a message : if you hear this whispering you are dying . )
iv. ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE ! the year’s 2007 and maybe you’re ready to return home after months away . but when you call your mother — finally — the line is dead . silence, before an automated voice tells you the roadhouse number is no longer in service . HEART LURCHES TO YOUR THROAT, YOU FEEL LIKE YOU MIGHT LOSE IT . fingers are all too steady as jo dials the emergency number her mom always offered to close hunters . three rings and then . . . she answers . heart relaxes for but a moment, though it pounds in the gilded cage of jo’s ribs, speaking of fear and worry and homesickness in its purest form . ❝ MOM ? ❞ there’s a release of a breath on the other end of the line and it almost sounds like her name . when ellen speaks, her voice sounds like grief . like exhaustion and regret and yearning . she weaves you a story of demons and hellfire and bodies . too many bodies . all people trying to better the world for no recognition, left in the ashes and debris of your childhood safe place . ( ashes to ashes, one of your closest friends and confidants went with the roadhouse . hearing ash’s name among the fallen was almost like losing her father all over again . jo swallows back the dry heave rising in her throat . ) ellen explains that she wasn’t there by plain luck — AND YOU BOTH CRY . and you cry and you cry and you cry . but as soon as they hang up, jo collects herself . rounds up her belongings in the motel . HOME WASN’T THE ROADHOUSE, IT’S WHEREVER YOUR MOTHER IS .
v. jo had long since accepted her own mortality . she burned bright and strong but perhaps she was always destined to fizzle out early . GIRLS LIKE ME DON’T LAST VERY LONG . it only seems right that, as she’s set down in the convenience store in carthage, that her own fire is what burns her in the end . SHE HEARS WHIMPERING . but brain doesn’t acknowledge the white - hot pain or the carmine staining calloused hand . she’s desperately holding on, as if she’ll survive if she just keeps her hand there . breaths are shallow but as she lays there before her mother and the winchesters against the counter, eyes seem to find clarity . they’re still as she looks up at the trio : she’s going to die here . no matter how many plans they whisper there in the aisle thinking she can’t hear, she’s already accepted the truth of the matter . SHE’S NOT INVINCIBLE . never was . and any ideas they have . . . she’d just bring them all down with her . when she speaks, her words are indubitable . mind is made up . AND IT’S IN THIS TOWN THAT SHE SAYS HER FINAL WORDS . see you on the other side ? eyes shine like she might cry, but she has no tears left to give as she nudges the shotgun towards dean . the offering says more than she could articulate . and it’s not until he closes the distance between them that her certain expression FALTERS . shakes . crumbles in on itself . AND HIS KISS SAYS GOODBYE . the adrenaline in her system is fading as ellen crouches before her, grasping onto jo’s hand . it’s enough for tears to finally form in her eyes . mama, do you know how much your daughter loves you ? DAUGHTER, DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR MOTHER WOULD DO FOR YOU ? and jo does . she sees it in her mom’s eyes — the same acceptance and certainty and fire that smoldered in joanna’s own . mom, no ! but she won’t let you die alone . KICK IT IN THE ASS, DON’T MISS . and then it’s just the two of them . confident in their choice . prepared to face their own transience . jo’s vitality fades as she collapses against her mother’s side when she returns, but it lights up the building . here lies joanna beth harvelle . AND THE FIRE HISSES : RUN, BOYS, RUN .
