lightgunhustler | voicemail/inbox: entranceway

[Great. This is exactly what she doesn't want. He'll regret trying says it all.]

He's already died for what he did.
Please, Dean, don't hurt him.

[It won't fix anything.]

He wasn't in his right mind.
That doesn't make it okay, but
We're supposed to be the good guys, remember?
I've been keeping my distance from him for months.

[Aside from a recent visit where she'd delivered lunch. And Tom is sick. Beyond sick. Punishing him further won't change that.]

Edited 2014-05-01 20:06 (UTC)

Jo I can't just let him walk after what he tried to do We hunt monsters he's a goddamn monster.

[ none of the excuses work. jo could go without ever seeing tom again for all dean cares, he's still going to murder the guy for what he'd tried to do. it's--

dean has to do this. he's failed jo enough, and it's only right. ]

He's not walking, he's paying for his crimes.
He's BEEN paying for them.
He's not a monster. People are only monsters when there's no hope left.
Don't do this.

[But she doesn't trust him to listen to her. Not even a little bit. She's already in motion, heading for the first floor -- Tom had been foolish enough to advertise his new location. Maybe he'd done it on purpose.

Maybe he wanted people to come after him. It was no secret that he wanted to just have it over with, whether by his own hand or someone else's. He didn't want to deal with the guilt or the reality of things, he just wanted to be dead. She wasn't about to let him take that escape, and she wasn't going to let anyone else follow through on it, either.

She had already seen what dying here did to people. She'd seen what it did to Tom in specific, thanks to what had happened over Christmas, and if that came to pass, then maybe there would be no good left in him at all.

She's on the alert for Dean as she makes her way down the hallway, prepared to block him if she has to -- she refuses to be a pushover, in this or any other situation.]

I have to.

[ much like jo, dean knows there's no time to waste if he wants to actually do this. the guy had given away his location so easily, which leaves the time it takes for dean to get to the first floor on the shorter side by a breeze. too bad for him it takes no time at all for dean to spot the familiar head of blonde hair, and the clear determination on jo's face.

he doesn't stop though. ]

I'm doing this, and you're gonna stand aside.

[ no ifs or buts. tom has to pay. ]

Am I? Why, just because you say so?

[She folds her arms as she prepares to go toe-to-toe with him, for a moment wishing that she was a much bigger person than she actually was, someone with some chance of actually being an intimidating presence. It was one of her strengths, usually -- the fact that people underestimated her, that she was able to take them by surprise, but Dean knew her well enough that he knew exactly what to expect.

By that same token, he also had to know that she had a history of not doing what she was told, especially if he was the one giving the orders.]

I can't let you do this. I know you're angry, and I know that makes you think it's right, but it's not. Take a minute and think about it; you know it's not. The Dean I know isn't a murderer.

I can't let him walk, Jo, he tried to kill you.

[ which is all that it comes down to. if dean feels his resolve waver, all he has to do is remind him that he could have lost jo before ever finding her again, and to some-- lunatic wearing his face. he doesn't hunt humans, doesn't murder them, but tom isn't one anymore, not in dean's books. he's as bad as the hellhounds which stole jo from him in the first place.

except this time? this time he's eliminating the problem before it can try again.

dean moves to brush past her. ]

I don't expect you to understand or approve, but you don't seem to get it either.

You really think I don't get it? I do.

[She shoves against his shoulder for emphasis, to put space between them and keep him from pushing past her. She's sure it won't be appreciated, but she's not going to stand there passively and just let him do this.]

Were you not paying attention when I told you what happened? The reason he didn't kill me is because I killed him. I shot him square in the damn chest twice so he couldn't hurt anyone else.

[She gestures blindly behind her; Tom's room is somewhere in that direction, but it's more of a general 'look here' sort of motion.]

And what good did that do? He's back. Wonderland will just bring him back like it brings everyone back, so you're not solving any problem by going after him, you're just perpetuating one. Hell, he'd probably fucking beg you to do it.

[She sounds angry, injured at that.]

He begged me. You're the one who doesn't get it, Dean. He hates himself for what he did. He's not faking that. He's not that good a liar. I need you to trust me. The fact that he feels real remorse and that this wasn't conscious is exactly why we should be finding a way to help! What do you do to victims of demon possession after they're exorcised, huh? Do you murder them, too?

[ the shove really isn't appreciated, but then it's expected. if anything though, it only has dean rounding on her with more anger, snapping back with a voice that screams just how much he can't understand her problem with his plan. ]

You know what? I'm freakin' glad you shot him twice, Jo, the bastard deserved it and then some. [ hell, he's proud of that fact. but now it's his turn-- he'll put tom into the ground as many times as it takes to make it stick. and fuck the rules of this place-- he'll break them, he'll keep pulling the trigger until they're broken and tom's death is permanent. ]

Trust you? Jo, you sound-- can you even hear yourself? He doesn't feel remorse, and if you think he does? He's fuckin' faking it, that's what people like him do-- he's playing you.

[ or at least believing that makes dean feel better. he doesn't know tom, he doesn't know much of anything about him or what jo have gone through. but he doesn't need to, it won't change anything. ]

He doesn't have a demon to hide behind which is exactly why I'm doing this. You should be-- just get out of my way.

Don't you dare talk to me about 'people like him.'

[Because he doesn't know. He doesn't know Tom, only knows anything about him second-hand, most of it from people who never took the time to get to know the guy in the first place. Anyone who knows him well had seen the difference between him and what he had become.

It didn't mean they trusted him now, it didn't even mean any of them forgave him, but they knew. Castiel knew. To a degree, Sam knew -- and there were others. Maybe not many, but enough. People to testify that this wasn't black and white, not an open-and-shut case.]

You don't even know him. You think I'm being played? You must think I'm really stupid, Dean. I'm not some fifteen-year-old girl romanticizing something awful.

[Not anymore. She had been, once, just a little bit.]

I know what happened was horrible, I'm not even saying that I think he should be resolved of responsibility, but this-- Dean, this is not what we do. We kill monsters, but we're not murderers. You can't sink to that. It'll leave a mark on you-- and it's not right.

He's not free, and he's not forgiven. He'll be under house arrest until kingdom come, probably, but this isn't the way to deal with the fact that you're pissed.

[She folds her arms, stubborn.]

I'm not moving.

[ but house arrest just doesn't fucking cut it. everything jo says, all of it should make sense -- does on some distant level that dean knows will eventually make itself known to him -- but right now what she says just riles him up more, like she's siding with the monster to spite him.

and him thinking she's stupid-- fuck, yeah, in this moment he wants to roar it at her, scream at her that yes, she's being fucking stupid for ever even standing in his way, for defending that monster who tried to kill her. it's like defending the hellhounds who once torn her side out.

dean can't have it.

she folds her arms, and dean-- well, if that's how it's gonna be, his hands will come to her arms, light at first, before gripping down as he's pushing her right against the wall of the hallway. it's gentler than he would be with a guy, would be with anyone but jo, but there's intent behind it -- to scare her, to make her see that he's not fucking around -- and if he can pin her there, even for a second, he grits the words out; ]

Since you're refusin' to see sense here, I'll do it for you. I'm doing this for you.

[ he'll remove tom from her life. none of this will have a chance of happening again, not now, not ever. ]

So back off.

[She pushes back, struggling against him, but no matter how strong she is, Dean is stronger -- always has been. Twice her size and with a whole lot of muscle on her. She sets her jaw and stares up at him defiantly before twisting to shove into him shoulder-first, pushing her way free.]

If you cared about doing something for me, you would listen.

[You back off, Dean.

The look she gives him is flat and even, unflinching, furious.]

If you lay a hand on him, I'll never forgive you.

[ she pushes, and he eventually lets up. the words sink in hard, are almost like a smack to the face-- but nothing quite stings like her never forgiving him. he thinks-- he'd like to think she wouldn't be able to do that, that after everything she'd still find a way to see his side of things.

but he also remembers her as a ghost, the vague disappointment over the loss of her own life and dean's part in it all. ]

Am I supposed to wait until he snaps again? Is that it?

[ he won't, and as much is clear as he shakes his head, backing off from her. ]

You bein' alive beats you ever forgiving me.

If he snaps again, I will take care of it. That's my job, not yours.

[Because she can take care of herself. Because Tom would want her to do it, just like the first time around. Because she knows that no matter how much she hates it, she can and will step up and do what needs to be done to keep people from getting hurt.

But not now. Not before she has to. Not when there's a chance that Tom can be whole again, that whatever sickness caused the whole thing to begin with can be carved out and gone for good. She may never want to touch him again, she may never even want to be in the same room as him again, but she owes him better than a string of meaningless deaths that will rob him of his mind as Wonderland eats away at him memory by memory.

She saw a preview of what five deaths would do to him during Christmas. Sick and troubled and potentially dangerous as Tom was now, he felt remorse. He had compassion and he felt the crushing weight of guilt and responsibility concerning what he had done. The future Tom had none of that. He had been stronger, more confident -- but he didn't know how to empathize. He had real potential be dangerous in an entirely different way.

But not this Tom. Not the real Tom. He could still be salvageable.]

Just get this whole thing out of your head. Just -- just stop.

[She stares at him, defiant, but she starts to soften slightly, her eyes almost pleading instead of angry. Pay attention. Don't do this.]

I know you think you're helping me-- that you're protecting me. I don't need it. ... I'm not alive, Dean. I'll never really be alive again, not anywhere that it counts. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate what you're trying to do, but-- my life here is my own. I can protect myself. But please.

[She grabs him by the wrist before he can pull away any further; a last resort.]

Please. Don't do this. I really--

[She really loved him. She loved Dean, too. Another case of caring too much for someone who wasn't good for her, someone she couldn't make it worth with for one reason or another, except this time it was so much worse. She still cared about both of them. She still wanted the both of them to be okay.]

If this were the real world, they would put him in a mental institution, not in the electric chair. Don't be a murderer, Dean. You're better than that. I know you are.

It's my job when it involves you, Jo.

[ just like dean would murder any bitch who might hurt sam-- and heck, maybe even cas. he doesn't like watching the few people he cares about make dumb decisions, or get hurt by the people they so blindly trusted. so he can't stop, won't stop. not if it means he might leave jo in danger-- or any of them.

tom is dangerous. the end. nothing left to discuss.

yet he also can't stand the look on her face, the pleading for him to back off. he knows he's crossing her in every way possible, more than likely breaking whatever chance they might have had at a new friendship with this...

her hand is around his wrist a moment later and dean stills, looks down as her fingers curl around him and then back at her face again. he wants to yank himself free, ignore all of it and go do as his gut demands. but... ]

And what am I supposed to do when he flips out again? When next time he does kill you and I'm not there to stop him, or-- or to just protect you because of this?

I won't watch you die again knowing I could have done something to prevent it from ever happening.

[ he's not moving to leave anymore though, stilled for now. there's nothing calm about him, every bit still livid; yet it's under wraps now, if only because dean's forcing his fee to stay firmly on the ground, to not take those steps towards tom's room he so desperately wants to.

his words seethe through gritted teeth. ]

You're asking too much.

How can you say that?

[It was asking a lot. She knew that, but she couldn't let herself believe that it was too much. But he's standing still. That's progress. He's not trying to break away, not trying to shove her out of his path and storm towards Tom's room.

Maybe he won't. Maybe he'll give up on it.

She grits her own teeth in reply, her jaw set, gaze hardened, but while her face is all angles and defiance, the rest of her softens -- she loosens her hold on his wrist, instead turning to face him and bracing both of her hands against his forearms, a gentler way of encouraging him to stay right where he is instead of going back on the warpath.]

I don't ask you for much, Dean. I can't promise I'll never ask anything again, but this-- this is the big one. I don't expect you to understand.

[He's too pissed, and she's guessing a big part of him is still hurt about the bomb she'd been forced to drop early on.

Honesty had still been the best option. She was sticking to her guns on that one.]

I need to you to let me take care of my own messes. You won't-- [She cuts herself short, because this isn't a promise she can make, but--] I'm not dying on you again. History's not gonna repeat itself here.

[Because for all intents and purposes, in the outside world? She's already dead. What would it matter?

She sighs, then stands up on tiptoe to press a kiss against the side of his mouth. A peace offering.]

Please.

voicemail/inbox: entranceway

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