#☁ |¦ you mind your tongue with me ¦| ~ Ellen Harvelle

[suddenlyallatonce]

Family Dinner | Ellen, Jo & Dean

Thread with joannahunts and the-ramblin-man -- moving thread history over here!  Please tag this blog on the next post that’s my turn :)

Jo wasn’t exactly looking forward to the night. She’d sort of sprung the night on both Dean and her mother, and she was sure there would be screaming before the night ended. That was exactly the reason she’d decided to leave Billie at home with a babysitter, where she’d be safely away from any fighting.

This would be Ellen’s first time seeing Dean since the two women had nearly died helping him. She had a very strong feeling Ellen wouldn’t be as willing to forgive the man as Jo herself had been. Jo only hoped that Ellen would understand that Dean was good for her, good for Billie. And that was all that mattered to Jo right now. She hadn’t exactly meant for Ellen to find out about Dean yet, they’d only been dating a few weeks so far, but Billie, excited about his visit, had spilled the beans about ‘Unca Dean’ spending the night and that she’d seen the two adults kissing and the next then Jo knew, Ellen was insisting on a dinner with the two of them.

As she walked towards the door to her mom’s front door, she desperately wished she’d brought a flash with her. She could really use a drink right now, a nice dose of liquid courage seemed pretty necessary. She was putting on a brave face, trying to convince Dean things would be alright, but she was sure he didn’t believe her. “You ready?” she asked, glancing to Dean for a moment before bringing a hand up to knock on the front door.

Facing Jo for the first time since the battle that almost claimed her life had been one thing. Somehow, despite the guilt he had over getting her involved, he had managed to earn her forgiveness and even her love. The relationship had been new, he wasn’t even quite used to calling her his girlfriend yet. It was also long distance in ways, but he still talked to her on the phone frequently and had even facetimed with Billie.

Yet now Dean Winchester found himself facing an entirely new challenge, one that nearly scared the sense out of him. He was confront Ellen for the first time in seven years. Not only that, but now he was dating her daughter. He knew they should have told Jo’d mother earlier, but it was too late for that now.

Heart racing, he stood beside his girlfriend as she nocked on the door. “No,” he answered automatically before trying to muster up a smile for her. He started to wish the three year old was there as a distraction….or at least a shield. Surely Ellen wouldn’t go for her shot gun if her granddaughter were there. Either way, Dean knew he was screwed.

Dinner.  That was the best course of action, right?  Ellen tried to remind herself that it’s what Bill would have done, or would have wanted to do, if she’d let him.  But hell if there wasn’t a damn precedent for this situation.  Her daughter was dating the man who nearly got them both killed, the son of the man who had gotten her husband killed.  Who could say they were inviting that history to dinner?

If it hadn’t been Billie who had “broken the news” so sweetly to her, she probably would have been even more livid.  Even if you set aside the Harvelles’ history with the Winchesters, dating a hunter was a whole lot more difficult and dangerous when there was a child involved.  It was one thing for Jo to get herself mixed up with “ramblin’ men,” but for her to drag Billie into this?  Alright, she was still pretty pissed.

She couldn’t blame them for keeping it from her, though; there was no way she could react well to the news.  She had long since stopped trying to tell Jo that she had shitty taste in men; the girl seemed to crave heartbreak, as far as her mother could tell.  But Dean Winchester was still a step too far, even if it wasn’t unexpected.

But Billie also made it pretty damn impossible for her and Jo to deal with shit like this the way they used to:  just stop talking until they needed each other again.  Her grandbaby would have none of that.  The little girl didn’t get tension, she didn’t get grudges, all she could understand was not being able to see her Nana, and she would throw a fit.  Which made Ellen smile a little.

So the only thing for it was to try to deal with the damn problem head-on.  As difficult as it was for Ellen to think of it as “three adults discussing the elephant in the room,” helping Jo raise a child had shown her a growth in her daughter that she might’ve struggled to see for a long time.  And Dean…  Well, hopefully seven years had made a damn bit of difference with that boy.

Recent years had given her some practice cooking again, though Billie hardly ate anything other than junk food anyway.  But she hadn’t timed the ham quite right, and there were still twenty minutes on the timer when she heard the knock at the front door.  She swore under her breath and shifted the green beans off the stove before she strode over to the door, still wiping her hands on her jeans.

“Hey, Jo,” she said automatically when she opened the door, and she raised eyebrows with surprise at just the physical change in Dean Winchester.  It hadn’t really occurred to her that he would have aged, as silly as that would sound out loud.  “Dean,” she said, and she couldn’t help the grim drop in her voice when she said his name.  She cleared her throat to try to bring it up again and stepped aside.  “Come on then, you’re lettin’ the bugs in.”

“Hey, Mom,” Jo said with a smile, resisting the urge to panic and run. She hadn’t been this afraid to talk to her mother since… well since she’d shown up at the Roadhouse six months pregnant. Reaching out, she grabbed Dean’s hand, pulling him inside after her. She knew he had to be panicking just as much as her, if not more. She was used to fighting with her Mother, Dean… not so much.

“It smells amazing in here,” she said, trying to stick to safe non-confrontational topics for as long as possible. “Oh, before I forget.” She paused for a moment, reaching into her purse to pull out a bottle of rather expensive whiskey, one of her mom’s favorite brands. “Saw this at the store and knew I had to get it for you.”

She offered the bottle to her mother, a gift, a peace offering, a bribe to hopefully keep the night running smooth. “I’m not sure Dean’s tried this brand,” she said, a slow smirk spreading across her lips as she glanced up at Dean. “His taste in whiskey is terrible sometimes,” she teased, knowing it wasn’t exactly true. Hunters tended to stick to what was cheapest.

While Dean’s heart was beating rapidly as he waited for the door to open, as soon as he saw Ellen, it stopped altogether. Or so it felt like. The disappointment was clear in her features and he swore he could even hear it in the way she said his name. It was the kind of the thing that he figured he should be used to at this point: disappointing parents.

Jo’s hand woke up him from his thoughts and he followed her in. As she presented the whiskey, he suddenly felt inadequate, as though he should have brought something as well. Would flowers be too cliche, he wondered. Mercifully, Jo tried to break the tension with a little joke. “Hey, my wallet would have to disagree,” he told her with a smirk. Their bickering over whiskey brands was almost a ritual at this point. Not that he minded. It reminded him of the days when they first met and would bicker over everything.

When he looked up to see Ellen again, the smirk disappeared. “It’s uh, been a while.” I missed you, sounded lame to him, even in his head. “You look good. It’s a nice house.” He was floundering, hoping she’d say anything to put him out of his misery.

Seven years had changed so much, yet as he looked at the woman he once called family, he could recall their last day together as though it were yesterday. She and her daughter had nearly died, all because of his plan. Shame made it difficult to even look her in the eye, but he held his ground as best as he could.

Ellen closed the door behind him and hadn’t really finished taking in the change in Dean Winchester when Jo called her attention to the bottle she was revealing from her purse.  A small smile spread on her lips, and she gave Jo a knowing look.  She knew what her daughter was trying to pull here, and she might even know where she’d learned that trick.  All the same, she appreciated it.  Just the fact that Jo wanted her to be here, to be happy for her, was a surprisingly good feeling.

Taking the bottle from Jo’s fingers, she leaned in to hug her with one arm.  “Thanks, baby girl.”  Straightening, she held up the bottle to see the actual label and gave Jo an impressed flex of her eyebrows.  “Buffalo Trace?  That’s a hell of a find!”  She was already walking over to the liquor cabinet, but the comment on the smell reminded her to check on the ham, so she set it down instead.  “Get a few glasses out, would ya?” she said over her shoulder as she dipped down to see into the oven.

Satisfied that it still needed a few minutes, she pulled the mitt off her hand and smacked it into the other absently.  Turning back around to face them, her eyes fell back on her nervous guest.  And realizing that he was nervous made guilt twist in her stomach.  With the physical growth digested, she couldn’t ignore that it was still Dean.  Not Jo’s boyfriend, not John’s son, not the idiot boy who almost got her and her daughter killed – just Dean.  The boy she’d babysat, the one she’d called for help, the one she knew, the one she had trusted.  And she’d missed him, too.

Dropping the mitt on the counter, she stepped up closer.  “You’re taller than I remember,” she told him with a tease in her voice.  Instead of raising herself up, she reached up to squeeze his shoulder and bring him closer so she could hug him proper.  “Or maybe you just look short next to your brother,” she continued when she withdrew.  “How is he?”

Jo couldn’t hide the proud smile as Ellen was impressed with her choice of whiskey. Sure, the gift was maybe a bit on the nose, her Mom was smart enough to know it was meant as a bribe, but… the woman seemed to accept it easily, so that was a good sign.

“Sure, I can do that,” she said with a nod. She was completely familiar with her mom’s home. They had dinners together basically every other week, and often they worked together to finish cooking the meal. She knew exactly how to find everything she might need.

Moving to find glasses, she looked to Dean and flashed him a reassuring smile. She could see nervousness written all over his face, and it was… more than a little adorable. She understood that feeling entirely, her stomach had been in knots all day, and despite the delicious smell wafting through the house, and the fact that she hadn’t eaten all day, she found she wasn’t actually hungry. She was too worried about the fight that would inevitably happen. Jo tried to hide that worry, though, and watched her mother carefully as the woman approached her boyfriend.

“Well… In Dean’s defense, everybody looks short next to Sam,” Jo piped in, smiling softly as she watched the two hug, hoping that was a sign of her mother’s forgiveness. She knew that wasn’t something that was given easily, but Dean deserved it.

As the women moved about, getting things ready for dinner, Dean felt entirely out of place. He shifted his weight, wondering what he was supposed to be doing. In any other situation, he’d feel perfectly at home and would be already working in the kitchen, even with no idea of where everything was. He mentally chided himself for acting so foolish. It was only Ellen.

Ellen. The woman he nearly got killed.

He took a steadying breath, but before he could say anything, he saw the older woman walking over to him. He wondered if this was when the fight would break out, but instead she smiled and hugged him. It was like the first time he had ever met her: awkward, yet oddly comforting. He patted her on the back in a half hug, feeling the nervousness start to subside. When she moved back, he looked to Jo with an amused smirk. “Yeah and you look like some elf thing next to him.” Their own height difference had amused him for some time, but seeing her stand next to his brother could be downright comical at times.

“He’s good,” Dean finally answered as he turned back to Ellen. “We’re livin’ in that old bunker now, dunno if Jo told you. With Cass. They’re good. All things considered.” There was always a new big bad to fight which tended to put a strain on things, but for the time being, there weren’t too many complaints aside from the British Men of Letters. Things had certainly been worse. “What about you? It’s good to see you again. What are you doin’ these days?”

“A Bunker?” Ellen asked, eyebrows raised high as she looked between them.  “Sounds like something Bobby would’ve loved.”  The words were out of her mouth before she realized they’d hurt, and she tried to force a smile as she stepped back and took one of the glasses Jo had finished pouring bourbon into.

“Good to hear Sam’s still in the game.  Kinda surprising though.  And Cas is still around, too?” she asked idly as she sipped the drink and pulled serving dishes from the cabinet.  It was intended to be small talk, but such things were dangerous and full of landmines for hunters.  Nearly anything could be a trigger for an unpleasant conversation.  But they were adults here, as they were so insistent on making clear.

Turning to Jo as she shifted green beans into a dish, she asked, “Who did you leave Billie with?”

[suddenlyallatonce]

One Mother to Another | Ellen & Jo

Thread history with joannahunts -- moving our thread from the old multi-muse! Next response will be reblogged from your blog to this one! :)

Continued from here

Ellen’s eyes widened with…what?  Disbelief?  Awe?  Horror?  She couldn’t even pinpoint the source of the lump in her throat, she just swallowed around it and realized how very dry her mouth was all of a sudden.  “I need a drink,” she murmured, her hand reaching up to thread through her hair.

Pregnant?  For whatever reason, it was the last thing she expected out of Jo.  Some unjustified subconscious part of her expected Jo to…find her way, find a decent man, find something to do that wasn’t life-threatening, settle or something before…this.  Since Jo never really seemed to do any of those things, she’d never really considered motherhood a possibility for her daughter, and the prospect was quite literally dizzying.  She leaned back to half-sit on a shelf.

After a moment, she asked the only question she could think of:  “How far along?”

Jo watched Ellen carefully, waiting for the explosion she knew would happen. She waited, knowing any second now it would come but… it didn’t. She’d never seen her mom speechless before. She was sure that was a bad thing. The calm before the storm, no doubt.

“Oh, um.” The question was a bit surprising, and it took Jo a moment to process her mother’s words. “About six months,” she admitted, her hand moving to rest on her growing baby bump. “I… I know I should have come home sooner, I just. I didn’t know how,” she said weakly, unable to look at her mother. She was ashamed of herself for not coming home earlier, but it was impossibly hard to face her mother.

Ellen would’ve choked if she had a drink.  Instead, the sound caught in her throat, and her eyes snapped back up to her daughter.  “Six months?” she asked, incredulous.  She stood up straighter, off the shelf, her hand carding through her hair again.  “Jesus, Jo.”

Her mind barely wrapped around the idea that Jo was about to be a mother – Hell, she was about to be a grandmother! – before it started trying to process…Jo came here for help.  There was nowhere left for her baby girl to go, and Ellen always opened her door to her daughter (albeit usually with a lot of fighting involved), but now…  Now there was a baby to prepare for?

She rounded on Jo.  “Should have come sooner?  Joanna Beth, you just showed up at my door with three months or less to prepare for a baby!”  Her head was spinning with a whole list of questions, obligations, supplies, and the next thing she could think to ask was, “When was the last time you saw a doctor?  Is everything okay at the very damn least?”

“Mom. Of course I’ve been to a damn doctor,” Jo told her, her brow furrowing. She hated when her mother used her full name like that. She slowly wrapped her arms around her stomach, frowning deeply at the older woman. “I’m not stupid. I’ve been to them plenty of times.” She glared at Ellen, shoulders tense.

“I’m you don’t have to prepare for anything. That’s not why I’m here. I can manage all that on my own. I just… I wanted you to know. I wanted you here,” the young woman said stubbornly. “I’m just here because… you’re my mom, and I wanted you around.” It sounded stupid when she said it, but it was true. She didn’t need help buying stuff for the baby, she had money. She just… needed to know how to change a diaper and what to feed a baby and… everything.

Ellen’s mouth tightened as she watched her daughter’s familiar attempts to articulate feelings that didn’t come easy to her.  She knew far too well just how independent the girl was, how difficult it was for her to ask for help.  And when she finally managed to, Ellen always caved.  That’s just how motherhood works.

…Which, she realized, was exactly why Jo was here.  There was a whole slew of stuff just like that, stuff about just being a mother that Jo suddenly needed to know, and it made Ellen’s head spin.  She had had to learn herself, along the way, just sort of carve her own path into the world with a baby in her arms – but she’d had Bill, in the beginning.  Bill had made things so much easier, had helped her adjust to the kind of patience infants and toddlers required.  Since his death, it was like all she knew how to do was forge ahead with a machete and chop away the shrubbery as she went, totally blind to whatever lay ahead.  Her own parents hadn’t been around to help, and she and Bill had moved around too much for friends…

She didn’t want her own daughter to have to do this alone.  Not like she had.  Ellen wanted Jo to be here as much as her daughter wanted to be, despite the unexpected surprise.  The set of her mouth was resolved, and she nodded, reaching out to run a hand over Jo’s arm.

“Alright, baby girl, this is…  Let’s just get you settled in.  Hungry, tired?  How long have you been on the road?” she tried to keep her voice from sounding stern, but she was only partially successful.

Jo was nervous that Ellen wouldn’t understand, that after everything they’d been through, her mother would turn her away. She bit her lip, waiting for the shouting to start up, for another fight to drive them apart. She prayed there wouldn’t be, though. She wanted her mother around, wanted her mom to be involved with her child’s life. They’d butted heads her whole life, but when it came down to it, they were family. And family stuck together, no matter what. Jo never had a huge family to begin with, and now that she’s quit hunting her family had gotten even smaller. She couldn’t exactly call on her hunter friends to babysit or help with a crying baby… none of them knew how to change a diaper or what to do about a fever that won’t go away… All Jo had for that, all her real family, was standing right in front of her. And she hoped she could patch the holes she’d put in their relationship.

When the woman reached out to touch her, Jo slowly relaxed. “All day, really,” Jo said with a shrug. “Getting anywhere takes forever. I have to stop every three minutes to pee. It’s terrible.” Letting out a sigh, she let her hand rest on her stomach, rubbing gently. “I’m hungry all the time and I haven’t slept well in about a week and a half… and I desperately want a glass of whiskey.” She was just complaining now, letting her head hang as she looked down at her stomach.

“Being pregnant kinda sucks sometimes, doesn’t it?” Ellen would understand, right? She’d been through it all before, even if it had been years ago.

Abruptly, Ellen couldn’t help but laugh.  She tried to cull it, to not laugh at her daughter’s very empathetic misery, but she just managed to bring it down to snickers.  Her face was genuinely sympathetic when Jo’s whine turned to whiskey.  “Aw, honey,” she said with a squeeze to the girl’s shoulder, “that ain’t goin’ away.”

She wrapped her arm around the younger woman’s shoulders and guided her out of the storage room, resolving to finish the inventory later.  “Let’s fix you somethin’ to eat upstairs, away from all the temptation down here.”  Henry caught her eye with an inquisitive tilt to his chin, and she gave him a stern look he should recognize by now:  you watch the place while I’m gone.

There wasn’t a whole lot in the pantry or the fridge upstairs.  Truth be told, Ellen didn’t eat much and had a pretty plain palate.  “You’ll have to settle for a roast beef sandwich until we can get to a grocery store,” she said with her head still in the fridge, pulling out the ingredients already.