#chesterville
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and if my wishes came true it would’ve been you
#supernatural#spn#chesterville#dean winchester#jo harvelle#spnedit#dean x jo#*#mine: graphic#mine: supernatural#we were something don't you think so 😭😭😭#forever missing them
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fell on black days | in the beginning
part i. in the beginning
summary - Dean tried not to think about the past, but it had a funny way on sneaking up on it. The End AU
pairing: dean x jo
warnings: typical canon violence
notes: I know if I don’t post this now, I never will. so I hope you guys enjoy it.
[part ii] [part iii]
[masterlist]
The end happened rather quickly.
Quicker than Jo Harvelle even anticipated as a Hunter. She knew the world was fragile, but people and their laws and logic were no match for the supernatural, who abided by no laws. Or rather, the all-powerful angels who wanted to throw a temper tantrum with the whole world as their sandbox.
She knew this could have been the outcome. She had been well aware of the pending apocalypse. The war that was anticipated between Heaven and Hell - Michael and Lucifer. She knew she was one of the few that knew anything was brewing back in 2006 when grieving brothers stepped through her mother’s door.
She had been there for the first phase of it with War in River Pass, Colorado. She still didn’t know if she was upset or just frustrated with how easily she was compromised during that hunt. It was just another thing her mother had used to show that she shouldn’t - couldn’t - hunt alone. It was just apparent evidence that she was still some naïve schoolgirl.
Yet, she was still here. She was still fighting and surviving. She was at least prepared. It was more than most had. She knew how to live off the grid. How to pack efficiently and effectively for all weather types. How to ration her food. She knew how to steal cars and move in the shadows. She knew what lived in the shadows.
Having all those technical skills still didn’t prepare her for everything. Most of the time, she traveled alone, especially after what happened in the beginning. She didn’t think she had it in her to be with other people. One, it had been proven time and time again that people were worst than monsters. Jo knew that good people don’t survive. They are the ones that seem to run out of luck. Good people are the ones to make the sacrifices for others to survive - to live.
It was why Jo didn’t think she was a good person - not anymore. It wasn’t just zombies or Croats that she needed to worry about. Monsters were fighting to survive in the depleting food chain. She didn’t think she could worry about herself and try to keep others safe. She was tired of being the last person standing when a camp falls.
The screams, the terror, and the children were just gone, Jo didn’t think she could handle that anymore. She knew in ways there was a strength in numbers. She knew it deep in her bones, but with this new world, it seemed she was always bathing in the blood of good people.
Jo wiped a hand across her forehand. The weather was in a state of flux. It was that cold heat where the sun was burning brightly, but the wind bit through the clothes. She was covered in blood, dirt, and sweat as her legs burned to put distance between her and the utter destruction of a small camp she happened to come across.
She had been alone for days. Her voice was hoarse from the lack of use when she had stumbled upon Lee and Krissy Chambers, a father and daughter duo with Victor Rogers. Both men were hunters. She remembered Lee had been a somewhat frequent patron of the Roadhouse. It was the only reason she stopped to relieve the numbness in her feet. The body also had a breaking point. It could have been no longer than an hour or two after the sun had set when the nest attacked.
It was a nest of 6 vampires. Jo had taken out two. One had immediately attacked her and she barely managed to sever the head with her hunting knife. Victor had no chance of surviving immediately. His two attackers had gone for the throat. Lee was doubled-teamed as well. Jo was ashamed to admit she thought of running, but she grabbed her machete and immediately hacked into the vampire attacking Krissy.
Jo knew that it was no use trying to save Lee. As they ran, she grabbed their packs and tugged Krissy along. She ignored the fact that vampires had their scents for life. She knew that they would probably follow their trail.
They ran and ran. They stopped briefly when a storm cloud passed and they hid in the trunk of a car. Krissy’s loud sobs had turned into hard shakes. The trunk smelled of mold, sweat, and blood. For a moment, with the sliver of moonlight peeking through the trunk of the car. She was reminded of her first hunt in HJ Holmes's tomb he kept his victims. Those times were much simpler. She wished someday she could go back. She wished to relieve the stupid arguments with her mother. Teasing Ash for his inability to lie. Beating hunters at poker. She even missed her horrid days in college.
Jo knew it was lethal to have these thoughts. Nostalgia was a powerful and dangerous drug.
She didn’t even realize Krissy was no longer shaking. From the small puffs of air and the even breaths, the girl was asleep.
Jo didn’t know where to go from here. The girl had to live with seeing her father torn apart by vampires. She had to grow up in this world.
But through this, Jo had managed to save one person for another hour, minute, and day. That meant something and maybe she was still somewhat of a good person.
. . .
He couldn’t afford to remember the beginning. The smaller threads that got him - the world - to this point. Thinking about the past was a luxury he couldn’t afford and it only distracted him from the present. It was all just wasted energy. It only distracted from the present.
Dean Winchester knew there was only pain and misery thinking about the way things used to be. Even now, fighting to survive if things somehow miraculously changed, things would still not be the same. They would never be.
When he did lapse into the toxic drug of nostalgia, he wished to go back to the days when the monster to kill was just a ghost, heck even a vampire or a werewolf. Not a Coatoan zombie trying to tear his throat out. He missed the Impala and the open road. Now everything is overgrown and rusted. No classic rock or sweating leather to tide his days.
Now it was checking inventory for food and weapons. Keeping a whole camp of twitchy survivors in check.
And he wondered why he did it all. The start of the camp was haphazard at most. It had been more so Bobby’s idea with a few other hunters. Dean just nodded along, but somehow he ended up becoming the leader. Everyone ended up listening to him and his words. But he didn’t want that responsibility.
But this was his burden. He played a part in this. All of this was because of him. He couldn’t shirk off that onto someone else. This was his mess to clean up.
The mess kept getting bigger and bigger and the world was just a walking corpse. And the losses were piling up. The only thing he could cling to was warm beer, which his supply was rapidly depleting, and the fact Cas was still alive, broke, but still here.
He winced as he thought about how Cas acted when he managed to break his foot and was laid up for two months. The plight of humanity - of being human - had crashed down pretty hard on Cas and before Dean could really blink he had himself a hippie with a commune.
Dean eyed his wooden ceiling with its ceiling fan. He had the luxury of a ceiling fan. He thought about the run they had to do. They were going to venture further out and so far it’s been 30 days without an accident. He wasn’t going to pray and he didn’t have much hope, but he wanted all of his crew to make it back. They were aiming to be gone a week, but he knew it would quickly be extended to two weeks.
Dean moved up from the bed and rolled his shoulders and neck sighing as the cracks eased the stiffness. He heard a familiar trek up his steps as he made his way to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. They had been lucky to find a nice stash and Dean was savoring every bit of it. He made a mental note to figure out how to grow coffee beans.
“Oh fearless leader,” Cas announced before he was fully in the home.
Dean didn’t bother greeting him and it is not like Cas expected it.
“Everyone ready?”
“Yes, I got the supply list from Chuck. The cars are being checked out and loaded up.”
Dean nodded. And he tried to not be annoyed by Cas’ humming as he seemed to be in a chipper mood.
“You know, Dean, I feel it is going to be a good day.”
Dean ignored the coffee scalding his tongue.
. . .
Jo’s not sure how she exactly ended up in Montana. When the end happened, she and her mom were in Minnesota. It had taken about two months for them to even get to South Dakota to reach Bobby’s and by then the house had been overturned. She and her mom stayed for a couple of days and the plan was to go back to Nebraska. Her mom still had property, but her mom never made it.
Jo just traveled. Alone. She had the hope deep down that maybe someone she knew was alive. Yet, she looked for safety for where ever. It just sucked that out of all the skills Jo had being a decent mechanic wasn’t one of them.
“My feet are killing me,” Krissy groaned as Jo failed to start another car.
Jo moved out the white beat-up Ford Taurus. She wiped her hands against her jeans. “Maybe we’ll come across some bikes. At least we wouldn’t run the chance of running out of gas.”
“Wishful thinking,” Krissy replied as she eyed their surroundings.
Jo was surprised almost by the silence the end of the world brought. Even nature seemed quieter than she remembered. No humming from any type of motor. The birds seemed scared to chirp. It was a still silence that always made her on edge.
“Come on, we are losing daylight.”
Krissy followed without complaint. The only sound between them is the jostling of their backpacks. Jo wanted to bring up what happened with her dad and Victor. She didn’t know how and even then Jo wanted the comfort of four walls before bringing up something like that. Jo knew how it felt to lose a parent and to witness it.
The blonde hunter squinted as the sun began to get low and she made out an outline for a sign to a church. Jo noticed a beaten path and followed the trail that took them from the open road to the uneven terrain of the woods.
They were about half a mile out when Jo finally saw the high church bell peak over into the horizon. Jo grabbed her sawed-off shotgun while Krissy grabbed her revolver. The church was small and picturesque. The white siding seemed to shine amongst the filth of the world. It seemed untouched - pure. She could’ve snorted thinking how a church of all places seemed to be a goddamn sanctuary.
Jo nodded at Krissy to keep watch in the front as she checked the sides and back of the church. She couldn’t see any movement from the stained glass windows. There was no blood or brain matter smeared against the siding. The only thing that stained the church was the outside elements. Jo frowned as it seemed the only way in or out of the church was through the front.
Jo met Krissy out front, her body on edge for any type of attack. She noticed Krissy was trying to act tough, but even in her stance of holding the gun didn’t hold confidence. It’s weird now that Jo could slightly see where her mom’s concern about the life stemmed from. This world of monsters shouldn’t be bestowed on any child. Jo could see that now through an adult lens of a jaded hunter.
“Follow my lead,” Jo told her before they entered the church. They check every crook and cranny. There was a bathroom, an office space, and a storage room. They found the usual Christianity paraphilia. They even found a small stash of canned food with an inventory full of communion wine and dust.
Jo didn’t like the feel of the place. However, the dust did show evidence that no one had been here for a while.
“We can fortify this place. It’s also close to a small town. It could be something,” Krissy said as she stood on the altar.
“Could be,” Jo muttered. Jo didn’t like it. There was no type of fencing. To take watch would be clearly shit. There was no advantage point. If they were attacked, they would be screwed. The place only offered to be a temporary option. A nice reprieve until they found something better. Yet, Jo knew that there might not be something better out there.
Jo rubbed her forehead. “Let’s fortify this place.”
“So we’re staying?”
“For now,” Jo told her.
They covered all the windows with boards and carved the inside with as many protection symbols that were ingrained in her memory. Krissy fell asleep quickly after that and it left Jo on watch out front. She just had the front steps to set up with her gun.
The night was cooler. She could hear some birds - or most likely - bats flying in the distance. She knew Krissy wanted to stay here. She could understand the desire as being on the road with the elements could wear anyone down. Yet, it would require serious planning to make this a home. Jo thought that was what she needed most. Even as a hunter Jo always had a place to stay considering her mom’s connection. Jo shook her head she wasn’t going to go down that route. It wouldn’t lead to anywhere but misery.
Instead, despite it all, she prayed. She prayed to Castiel and hoped that everything was okay. That Rufus was still out there fighting strong. Ash, her mom, and Bobby were in heaven. She prayed that Sam and Dean were okay.
She prayed if anything that they had each other.
. . .
Dean didn’t mind going on runs. The risks were high and it required trusting others to a degree to watch his back, but it was a break away from the camp. It was one of the few ways to keep sharp on his skills and to properly make note of the world and its decay.
Besides, he never knew what could lead to a clue to the Colt.
The Colt was the only thing he had that gave him some hope that this all could end. For now, his chief concern was finding toilet paper before Chuck had a stroke. He would think with the man being a prophet and all he could have foreseen the shortage of the ass wipe. Chuck also brought up the concern of condoms and babies.
The one thing Dean didn’t want to deal with was telling people how to be responsible between the sheets. He knew he couldn’t outright say no babies, but Dean wanted to. They were already struggling, caring for the few families at the camp.
Yet, he knew it was better to be safe and proactive. The end of the world wouldn’t stop hedonism, hence Cas.
Dean looked up at the stars and wondered if “God” was listening. Yet, Dean knew that familiar pain of absent fathers. It was the oldest child stuck with the task of watching and protecting. It was them making sure there was enough food for the week if that meant him skipping out on meals. They made sure scrapped knees were mended and homework was done.
God’s reward was punishment. Punishment because he loved his family too much.
. . .
Sleep did not come easy for Jo. In this new world, she could only afford 4 hours every night. If she was lucky she was able to get 5 hours.
Even when she was a hunter, she was lucky when she could get a decent amount of rest. Sure, she had the occasional night of nightmares that interrupted a normal sleep schedule. In the beginning, she had that false impression that it was good she would hound over a case for hours. Neglecting sleep was a must in her naive brain.
However, sleep was probably the most important thing the body needed. Being groggy and sleep-deprived would only put herself in danger, but the people she was trying to save. Sleep, food, and water were the things she kept on her priority list.
In the dark walls of the church, she wanted to drift to sleep. She wanted to escape the circumstances of what life was like now. Yet, every creak and breath Krissy took kept her alert. As much as Krissy claimed to be able to handle herself and was adamant she could take care of herself, it was tainted by the fact Krissy didn’t know how to mute her steps on a wooden floor.
Instead, Jo found herself in one of those sleeps with her eyes open. Where her mind was blank, but her body was lethargic and just creeping on that precipice of a few moments of bliss.
Jo didn’t want to admit it, but her constant fight and survival mode wore out on her. She was trying to figure out really want the end goal was for the angels and demons at this point. If they shred the world apart what was there to gain from that?
Although Jo learned nothing would come from trying to figure out the motive of things. Sometimes things couldn’t be explained.
Jo rubbed her eyes and the next thing she knew the sun was staining the glass windows. She leaned up from the church pew with her body protesting every move.
She sighed, knowing she needed to figure out their next steps. This place could be something if they tried. Or a nice pit stop to let their bodies recharge before trying to find something more permanent.
“You think we should try to loot the town?”
Jo licked her lips. They were tight from the lack of balm. Her breath was sour. Toothpaste or some type of mints were high on her want list. Jo rubbed her forehead before she looked at Krissy.
“Yeah. Should do that early to figure out our prospects in staying here.”
The walk to town was about 40 minutes. Clouds cover the sun, and the chill still causes Jo's skin to become damp through the trek.
Jo thought she would sell her soul for a shower.
They reached an abandoned Salvation Army. The store looked like a time capsule. Racks were still full of clothes and the appliances that lined the shelves were coated with a blanket of dust.
Yet, the most treasured find was located in the basement, apparently. In the middle of the store, the ground had caved in and flooded. From their viewpoint, it seemed the basement was the storage room and there were shelves lined with canned goods. Jo even spotted toilet paper.
“Just think we can grab you an extra pair of socks,” Krissy commented as Jo went over the dilemma. There seemingly was no con outside of the water damage that could be done to her clothes.
Jo rubbed her face, as it seemed she was going swimming. Jo began to remove her top layers and stuffed them into her bag. She was going into the water while Krissy waited at the top to grab each item.
She placed her hair in a high bun before placing her foot on the creaky wooden step.
“God, this water smells like ass.”
“I can smell it,” Jo countered as the cool water reached her ankle. As she waded in deeper with the water coming up underneath her chest, she wasn’t going to ponder the filth that could be in the water. She assumed it was just as bad as the guts, brains, and blood of the various monsters she hunted.
She waded in the water with her bowie knife tight in her grip. The water had a slimy consistency. She could see spiders jumping around. She winced at the uncomfortable squish of her feet against her boots as she reached the first shelf. There was a landmine of good finds, especially the toilet paper that wasn’t submerged in the water. She knew people would kill for these items.
She grabbed the first clear tote that was filled with boxed goods. From her quick glance, it seemed to be filled with rice, potatoes, and pancake mix. She easily cleared the first shelf.
When she moved to cross the room to the stash of paper goods a ripple in the water made her stop.
"Everything okay?" Krissy called from the top of the stairs.
Jo tightened the hold on her knife. She watched the water and waited for a ripple. Maybe it was just her movement.
"I'm going to grab a pack of toilet paper," Jo announced as she looked up at Krissy. She watched as Krissy's intense look of concentration changed to horror.
Jo felt herself being grabbed by her shoulders and submerged under the water. The contaminated water filled her lungs choking her.
She could hear Krissy screaming as she fought against the grip pulling her down. Jo used her knife and cut at the wrist that was pulling her.
She could hear a startled scream and the grip on her shoulder was gone.
Jo kicked her legs and her eyes burned in the murky water. She kicked her legs and her lungs were fighting for air as she swam her way to the top.
The swim was longer than anticipated. Her fingers glided over the sharp edges of torn concrete.
Jo realized the leak in the basement wasn't just an ordinary leak.
She breached the surface coughing while trying to get in air. Her eyes widen as Krissy moved down the steps.
"No, don't come down here!" Jo screamed. She tried to move quickly but the water slowed her down.
"Is it a Croat!"
Jo coughed. Her lungs burned as she tried to reach the steps. She could feel her warm blood pouring down her shoulder from the talons. She grabbed the wooden stairwell.
"No, I think it's a water nymph."
"I thought they were peaceful?"
Jo nodded her head as they usually were. She imagined the end of the world fucked up the food chain. Monsters that were docile and friendly were desperate and turned ravenous.
Jo placed a foot on the bottom step when she felt the wood break away from underneath her. She stumbled and scraped her arm against the stairs as she tried to catch her balance. She grunted as the feeling of wood became embedded in her skin.
"Shit!"
"Jo!"
It was the only warning she had before she felt a grip on her ankle trying to pull her down. Jo latched on the wooden step as she kicked her leg out. She knew the step wasn't going to hold long.
She screamed as the nymph's talons pierced into her calf.
"Fuck!"
A loud bang echoed and the grip on Jo's ankle loosen. Jo looked up to find Krissy holding her gun. Jo looked behind her and found a floating nymph surrounded by a halo of blood in the murky water. The packet of toilet paper bumped into the still body.
Jo hissed as she moved to stand straighter. She steadied herself as she grabbed the toilet paper and handed it off to Krissy.
. . .
Jo didn't want to admit that her body was hurting. They were able to patch her up in the store where she was her own stained glass of bruises and scrapes. Of course, it was the splinter that hurt the most. It wasn't the talons that sliced her that had her cursing everything. It was the piece of rotting wood that had her hissing and on the verge of tears.
She wasn't sure if the toilet paper was worth it.
Though the fire in the church had her nice and warm, then maybe the wine she was drinking contributed to the warm feeling in her cheeks. Jo knew it was probably stupid to be drinking in the first place.
Wine wasn't even a favored drink of hers. Growing up in a roadhouse it wasn't as if they kept red or white wine on tap. Although wine could be an acquired taste. Who knew the apocalypse would have her drinking wine over beer and tequila? She could admit at least the wine did have a decent taste. It's sweet, not dry. And she couldn't feel the stinging of her cuts anymore.
"So are we staying?"
Jo's head felt heavy as she looked up at Krissy. Krissy was full of hope and optimism. “Yeah, we’re staying.”
. . .
Jo didn’t remember closing her eyes or even laying her head down on a pillow. Her body felt heavy. Her mouth was dry. Her lips felt as if they were glued together. Opening her mouth, the fresh air stung her lips.
She wasn’t sure what woke her now, though. Her eyes fought against the crust to open. She flexed her fingers as she tried to hear any movement from Krissy from her soft snoring, the scratching of a pencil, or the sound of fabric running together from walking.
Instead, there was an eerie silence within the black church. Her fingers searched for the knife that was strapped to her thigh. She gripped the handle as she moved from the cocoon of blankets. Moving slowly from the couch, she winced as the wooden plank creaked under her weight. Her body was on high alert as she moved closer to the door. It’s filled with the tension and simmering adrenaline that only came from a hunt. Something was not right, and she regretted the wine she drank earlier. Creeping quietly to the door, she waited for some sign of life. Her hands are about to grasp the doorknob when a scream of her name ripped through the still of the night.
. . .
Dean was restless. Since they crossed over into Montana something had been off. He can’t put his finger on it, but years of hunting have told him to trust his gut instinct. It was the reason he had made it alive this long. Since they made camp in the abandoned schoolyard he felt queasy. The building was half burnt down with charred bricks and busted windows.
His group had easily made themselves at home. Made a feast out of baked beans and got cozy for the night. He couldn’t settle and he found his way walking the perimeter before he caught sight of a trail that had directions to a church.
His feet began following the path before his mind caught up to him. He thought the last place he would ever think to seek out would be a church. Yet, he found that most of the survivors they come across have been in churches. They think there was a God out there to protect or worse save them.
The path was filled with fallen leaves and plenty of twigs. It made it hard to have quiet footsteps, which was why he could make the heavy tread of Cas' steps. The fallen angel hadn't quite recovered since he broke his foot.
"I know you're following me, Cas," Dean called out.
"Our fearless leader shouldn't be walking alone in the woods."
Dean didn't bother giving Cas a response. Not like his response would matter. The Cas from before was slowly drifting away. It's being replaced by this human version of Cas being beaten and broken by free will. This once angelic being has been stripped down to a simple human being filled with weaknesses.
Dean didn't know at this point if death would be a mercy to Cas. He wondered if other angels mocked the once-respected General.
But that was what happened when you touched Dean Winchester. He corrupted if he didn't get them killed.
"There is something different here."
Cas' words made Dean stop. He turned to look at his friend. "Are your angel senses tingly?"
The expression on Cas' face gave Dean pause. He wasn't looking at a high Cas or post-coitus one. The serious expression on his face reminded Dean of the early days. Those brief meetings with Cas when he was raised from hell. The face of a soldier preparing for battle.
Even the walk turned from languid to swift and stiff. Dean thought he could see the silhouette of the abandoned trench coat.
Dean didn't have a chance to open his mouth for further probing when a scream pierced through the night.
It’s the innate instinct of a hunter. His feet glided over the twigs, rocks, and all the other debris found in the woods. As he moved closer, he could see the silhouette of the church. It wasn’t a grand display of opulence. It seemed to be a tiny house that, at the last minute, was converted into a place of worship. Cas signaled he was going to check the church from the back.
The sound of a crash broke his musings on the exterior design. His grip was tight on his gun as he approached the door slowly. He could make the distinct sounds of a struggle. There were things crashing. Grunts and cries of pain.
It startled him when the door burst open and a body flew down the short stairs. The body landed hard, which even made him wince. The person groaned as their fingers scraped the earth to get their bearings.
The echo of footsteps approached. “You see, we were going to be merciful. Drain you slowly…”
Dean froze as the person walked past him. The person was too concerned with its prey in front of them.
He watched as the person turned on their back. The person saw him and fell back laughing. In the dark of the night, he couldn’t make out much, but he knew that voice. He knew that laugh.
“What’s so funny, hunter?”
A voice that haunted him on the loneliness of nights caused goosebumps to erupt across his skin.
“Dean Winchester is behind you.”
#untilmynextstory#dean x jo#dean winchester#jo harvelle#dean winchester fanfiction#jo harvelle fanfiction#deanjo#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#chesterville#the end#end!verse#supernatural#spn#end verse#spn au
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Chesterville Concept Art 6 (Tumblr)
Snacks (Part 3) – Revised
Chesterville: This crossover comic strip has all my original characters interacting with each other while going about their usual lives in a thriving metropolitan city.
#alanstudios#imaginalanation#comicstrip#webcomic#webcomicseries#crossover#comedy#conceptart#alancomicstrip#roseythechinchilla#mugsy#dangerman#mugsyscrewball#demon#killjoyjones#garrettwad#atomsdale#robotknights#nerdsvsjocks#crashcallahan#worstdayofmylife#scarley#crusaders#bencroft#nicolasfinch#sanctuarytales#sciencefantasy#chesterville#snacks#food
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We Gave 6 Comedians An Enemy With An Alliterative Name And You'll Never Guess What They Did With It (ep 1 - 10)
#genuinely a bit that gives and gives and never stops giving. to me#siobhan is so good at this i love when she plays cunty adaine#d20#fhjy#fantasy high#dimension 20#rewatched their first meeting with chipotle chesterville to get the cap of brennan saying the name right#and they were suchhh funny assholes!! i need 20 more hours of the bad kids being dicks to everyone thats vaguely mean around them
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"PRINTS CONVICT MAN," Toronto Star. July 21, 1933. Page 17. ---- Montreal Youth Admits Guilt - Gets Three Years at Kingston ---- Chesterville, July 21. Found guilty of shopbreaking here on July 3, and stealing goods valued at $300, Walter Johnson, 19, of Montreal, was sentenced to three years in Kingston penitentiary by Magistrate John McCormick of Winchester. Haroid Graham, 29, said to be from British Columbia. was sentenced to 18 months definite and six months indefinite.
Johnson denied his guilt until confronted by finger-prints.
[Johnston had also been in the Industrial School, the Guelph Reformatory, the Burwash Industrial Farm, and the Perth County Jail - all before turning 19. He was convict #3125 at Kingston Penitentiary and worked in a labour gang outside. He was reported three times for misconduct. He was released January 1936.]
#chesterville ontario#dundas county#shopbreaking#small town ontario#shopbreaker#montreal#sentenced to the penitentiary#kingston penitentiary#great depression in canada#crime and punishment in canada#history of crime and punishment in canada
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string series least homoerotic nosleep story /j /ref
#so anyways. do you guys think freddie and jaz explored each others’- [gunshot]#I actually think that they didn’t tbh but they share a lot of glances..#but one night freddie is making peter coffee and as peter grabs the mug he kisses him like it’s muscle memory#it had been a surprisingly fluid motion for the most inexperienced makeout that followed#jaz gets a little quiet after he finds out but sunny breaks the tension when she asks if he’s actually going to kiss freddie or just mope#maybe his lips graze freddie’s neck at the end and they both write it off as jaz’s mental break#the beautiful thing that jaz always returned to him in his rage <3 to be loved is to be devastated by how well this being knows you#(I literally do not care that freddie had a kid at the end. trans men can get homoerotic with the body snatchers too)#and before everything happened peter and jaz were deep in the ‘if you were a girl I’d date you’ turmoil#not fully denial but more that there was not a chance of acceptance in chesterville#so they pretended to be happy in their awkward knockoff of fwb#I think if everything went okay in their lives peter and eve would have a rocky relationship that turns into a healthy polycule with jaz#and eve and sunny are off-and-on. they prefer polyamory but sunny is not interested in jaz or peter#sometimes though they just want each other
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route 161, chesterville
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"Strength (Bell Donner Gives Her Word)"
I posted this short story on LJ back in 2007, and I said I'd repost it here for Halloween. I did an audio reading 15 (!) years ago that I'd like to redo in better quality in the near future; I'm also curious to see what it would sound like now that I'm the age I imagined the main character to be. This version is lightly revised, but the story is mostly the same.
That fall a number of people in Chesterville were mauled to death by some kind of wild dog or coyote—the kind that apparently wasn’t too afraid to go right up to people as they took out their trash at night, or let their own tame, domestic dog out not too long after dawn. But it was a small town out in the sticks, verging on farm territory: quiet. Not like a wild animal was marauding up and down Times Square or anything. Not like it was in plain view. So people just started being more careful—not venturing out alone until midday, or not venturing out at all without a loaded shotgun—and things were all right for a while. Then, in late October, the animal came back, and this time, someone survived.
An old lady by the name of Edna Mayhew—well, yes, she lost her arm from the elbow down, but she came out of it a damn sight better than any of those who’d come before her. And she said that it was a wolf, definitely a wolf, but it had come at her on two legs, and when she had smacked it in the face with a veiny little fist, it had held her down with two arms and bitten her forearm clean off. The only thing that saved her, she declared, was her neighbor Bill “Thursday” Thurston, who had heard her screaming and come out with both barrels blazing. He claimed that the thing he saw ran away on four legs, but that it was, in fact, Goddamn Huge. This was about the time that that new photo of Bigfoot lumbering around on all fours came out, which several professors and scientists swore up and down was just a bear with mange. Eddie at the Red Brick printed out the picture and taped it up by the bar, and the next time Thursday came in for a beer, he said, yeah, the thing he chased off Miz Mayhew kinda looked like that. Maybe it was a wolf with mange. Mange was a terrible thing, after all. He’d managed to hit it with at least one shot, though, so he didn’t think it’d trouble people too much after that.
So, going into November, that was where things stood. Whatever it was, it had mange, and it had probably gone off and died quiet somewhere. Bell Donner wasn’t terribly worried about it when she went outside one morning to get more wood for her kiln. She threw artisan pottery out on a little farm a few miles to the west of Chesterville anyway; every week or so, she’d go into town for groceries, mail out her online orders, maybe stop at the Brick for a burger and a drink, and hear what was to be heard. She had little to tell about herself, but folks like to tell their stories, and she knew Miz Mayhew from the post office. She learned that people were keeping their guns out, their doors locked, and their pets inside; she heard the recitation of tales. But whatever the thing that Bill Thurston shot had been, it and its mange were not likely to bother Bell. Or so she thought, until that morning when she was piling kindling into the crook of her arm, looked up, and saw it standing at the edge of the yard.
It didn’t have a human face, but it was standing—on two long, lanky legs that curved back into hocks like a dog’s. One—arm?—was held close to its belly. Probably protecting wherever Thursday shot it, thought Bell, her brains feeling thick and logy. That was the best reaction she could dredge up: Yeah, six-foot man-shaped wolf thing hunched over in my yard, probably not feeling too good right now. It didn’t have a human face, but it did have a very human expression—desperate, she thought, and cranky. Maybe resentful, even. And hungry.
Bell put down her armful of kindling and picked the axe back up.
The thing staggered forward a step or two. It was still a good twenty feet away.
“Go on, now,” she said. “Get. Ain’t nothin’ here you want.”
The thing gazed at her, its eyes watching the axe; it almost seemed to—calculate? She’d seen it, after all, and it was hungry. A human murderer wouldn’t have let her live, and this wasn’t even human.
Bell hardened her voice and rode over a quaver like it was a speedbump: “Go on now. I won’t tell nobody if you just go.” It was on the tip of her tongue to offer it some food—she had a pot roast from the other night, and she was still knee-deep in leftovers—and then she thought, You dumbass, you feed it once and you’ll never get rid of it. “G’on now,” she said, her hands tight on the axe handle. “Just get. You got my word. I won’t tell nobody.”
It was still standing there, reckoning. And then it stepped back, making a tactical withdrawal into the brush at the back of the yard. She saw it drop back down on four legs and lope away awkwardly towards the thicket out behind the farm, a scrubby bit of forest that led into some of the foothills. Probably some good caves in there, she thought. The wolf-thing wasn’t the only one out there who could calculate. And when the attacks started in Chesterville again, and then moved a bit north—northeast of Bell’s farm, and then back down to Chesterville, and then southeast of her farm, and then back to town again—she knew it was being careful. It knows better than to shit where it eats, she thought to herself. Or eat where it slept, more precisely, but the saying held the same. There were some people at the sheriff’s office who probably would have given a lot to know about a thicket in the foothills west of Chesterville, particularly since Edna Mayhew was still the only survivor. But Bell Donner had given her word; she valued her word almost as much as she valued her life, and they were pretty much the same thing in this case, she decided. After all, it’s one thing to know where something lives. It’s another when something knows where you live, and a deal was a deal where Bell Donner came from.
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Watching Over
I never imagined I’d be sitting in a courtroom watching my best friend be accused of murder. I also never thought I’d see the day where I wasn’t sure if I could trust the one person I thought I knew everything about.
--
24 year old Isabella “Izzie” Rotterdam lives in the sleepy town of Chesterville, Ohio where everyone knows everything about everything. Things couldn’t have been more normal in this picturesque community until the body of Jenny Evans was found brutally murdered along the Kokosing River one summer morning. The town was quick to point fingers at Jenny’s ex boyfriend and Izzie’s best friend, Danny Wagner, but without any concrete evidence and no other leads, the Chesterville County Police were forced to stop the investigation and the case went cold, along with Danny and Izzie’s friendship.
One year later, Izzie finds herself in a position where she can no longer run from her past. If there’s any chance and finding peace and clarity, she’ll have to face her demons head on to get the answers she’s been searching for all this time.
But things aren’t as simple as they may seem. Everyone in this town has secrets and some will go to extreme lengths to keep them hidden. It’s about time the skeletons in their closet were exposed…
MASTERLIST
part 1
part 2
part 3
#greta#greta van fluff#greta van fleet#greta van fic#danny wagner#daniel robert wagner#drw x reader#danny gvf#greta van fanfic#gvf#gvf imagine#danny robert wagner#murder#murder mystery#crime#gardensgatekeeper
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KZN Police Uncover IEC Voting Material at ANC Official’s Home - https://trendsnewsline.com/2024/05/26/kzn-police-uncover-iec-voting-material-at-anc-officials-home/
In a shocking turn of events, the KwaZulu-Natal (KZN) Police have uncovered voting material belonging to the Independent Electoral Commission (IEC) at the home of an African National Congress (ANC) official in Chesterville. This discovery has raised serious concerns about corruption within the ruling party and has sent shockwaves through the political landscape just days before the upcoming elections.
The revelation came to light when KZN Police conducted a raid on the ANC official’s residence following a tip-off from a concerned citizen. During the raid, officers found a significant amount of IEC voting material, including ballots and other election-related documents. The ANC official, whose identity has not been disclosed, was immediately taken into custody for questioning.
This incident has cast a shadow of doubt over the integrity of the upcoming elections and has raised questions about the fairness and transparency of the electoral process. The IEC has issued a statement condemning the discovery and has reassured the public that steps will be taken to ensure the security of the voting materials and the integrity of the election.
The KZN Police have vowed to conduct a thorough investigation into the matter and to hold those responsible for the tampering of the voting material accountable. This latest scandal comes at a critical time for the ANC, which is already facing mounting criticism over allegations of corruption and mismanagement.
The ANC has been embroiled in a number of scandals in recent years, with accusations of corruption and malpractice plaguing the party’s reputation. This latest incident will only serve to further damage the ANC’s standing among the electorate and could have far-reaching implications for the party in the upcoming elections.
The discovery of the IEC voting material at the ANC official’s home has sparked outrage among opposition parties and civil society organizations, who have called for a full investigation into the matter. The Vote MK Party, a prominent opposition party in KZN, has condemned the ANC for its alleged involvement in the tampering of the voting material and has called for swift action to be taken against those responsible.
The timing of this scandal could not be worse for the ANC, which is already facing a tough battle to retain power in the upcoming elections. The party has been struggling to regain the trust of the South African people following years of corruption and mismanagement under former President Jacob Zuma.
The ANC’s reputation has been further tarnished by this latest scandal, which has raised serious questions about the party’s commitment to upholding the principles of democracy and the rule of law. The ANC leadership has been quick to distance itself from the incident, insisting that the party is committed to free and fair elections.
As the investigation into the tampering of the IEC voting material continues, the people of KZN are left wondering what impact this scandal will have on the outcome of the elections. Will the ANC be able to retain power in the face of mounting criticism and allegations of corruption, or will this latest scandal be the final nail in the coffin for the ruling party?
Only time will tell, but one thing is clear: the people of KZN will be watching closely as the events unfold in the lead-up to the elections. The future of the province hangs in the balance, and the outcome of the elections will have far-reaching implications for the political landscape of South Africa..
https://twitter.com/i/status/1794672191294013590
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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Sandi Wickersham Resnick Chestervill Litho.
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fell on black days | no exit
part ii. no exit summary - Dean and Jo get used to being around each other again. The End AU pairing: dean x jo
warnings: typical canon violence, kissing
[prt i.] [prt. iii] [masterlist]
Dean didn't know what to expect. He didn't know how to necessarily feel. As the world slowly decayed, he learned to let go of the desires he had in life. Those small pleasures he afforded, while he fought the supernatural underbelly, had turned into ash. He learned to really compartmentalize. There was no use in getting distracted by the past and, more importantly, the people of his past.
It was hard enough trying not to think of Sam and his parents. He missed Bobby, but he knew he couldn't venture further. He couldn't get lost in what he believed to be the obituaries of the friends he had made along the way. Dean couldn't think of them as being alive. He didn't want to think about how anyone he cared about was stuck in this world. When it all came down to it, all of this was his fault.
It was his fault that Jo was out there alone. He let the world go bad and it took her mother. His choices had led her to be in that church and attacked by vampires. Dean had played a role in her first hunt. If he dug further back, his family was the reason her dad died on a hunt. The Winchesters played a very big part in the life of Jo Harvelle.
It didn't help that his thoughts for Jo weren't entirely brotherly, as much as he tried to convince himself. He saw what happened to the women that became involved with the Winchester men. He didn't want to subject Jo to the same fate as his mom and Jessica.
It was clear the girl he was looking at with the seeping neck wound and the stained collar was not the one that moved so effortlessly around the Roadhouse.
This wasn't Jo that wore the pale pink shirts and styled her hair in curls to attract tips from patrons. As much as she hated to be reminded, she was no longer the naive Jo that yearned to be a hunter and follow in her father's footsteps.
As much as Dean had admired Jo and her drive, he sometimes resented it for her. He remembered hunting the ghost of Holmes and being haunted by the thought a girl like Jo could have a different life. It was clear that was what Ellen wanted. She had a parent that wanted more for her. A mother that wasn't pushing a need for revenge.
He knew his mind was clouded from his dad's death back then. A huge part of that played in how he acted back then had created that wedge between him and Jo. Because despite her naivety, she was a good hunter despite Ellen's insistence she wasn't.
Dean knew that had he met Jo even a couple of months earlier, he would have most definitely tried to get into her pants. But after his dad's death, Dean stopped imagining a life outside of hunting. Those fleeting dreams he had of Lisa when he found out she had Ben, the possibility of him leaving a legacy, were just a fantasy.
He knew he had been in the life for too long to simply just walk away. Between seeing Bobby and Ellen, unlike his Dad's life on the road, he knew it was possible to have a base. As much as he loved Baby, even she needed rest for a while. But even the thought of having four walls as a home seemed impossible. He became resigned to hotel rooms being his stowaway home.
It was after Hell, when he didn't know know what was going on with Sam and the pressure of the angels when he truly did entertain what life could be. He had resigned to the fact hunting would always be in his Life. Dean turned to dreams to escape his realities. So he dreamed of owning a house near Bobby, of course. He could work in the junkyard and help expand the car side of Bobby's business. Dean thought he would like to work in restoration.
As business boomed, it would only make sense for Jo to be their secretary. She would do a good job of manning the phones for the legitimate business and the hunting one. He could imagine her sitting in the office with her feet up chewing someone out. As much as she would be terse and blunt it wouldn't affect business. Heck, Dean would believe it would drive up business. He would flirtily suggest that they should use her for a billboard advertisement.
He didn't know if Jo could cook, but he could imagine her cutting a piece of pie for him on his birthday with a candle burning brightly in the middle.
It was the quieter moments that provided an intimacy he could only imagine, or chased in fleeting moments with strangers, in motel rooms that had him wading in dangerous territory.
Territory that would only get her hurt in the end. He told himself it was out of respect for Ellen he had buried those feelings deep for Jo and the possibility. Besides, there was a curse attached to the Winchesters.
But in the end, it seemed none of his well wishes mattered. His choices had led her to be in that church and nearly a vampire chew toy.
Her teeth were stained with blood as she hissed. The vampire had got her good.
"It's good to see you, Dean." The tension in his body faded a bit. He hadn't heard her voice in so long and the memories didn't do her justice.
"You too, Jo." His voice was rough, but his throat was thick as he worked to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over.
He held her bloody hand the whole ride home.
Dean didn't know what to expect with Jo back in his life and vicinity.
He knew they wouldn't go back to their old camaraderie despite wanting to. He wouldn't admit that despite Cas' gentle prodding. At times, Dean wished Cas could still read minds and be blunt. He didn't care for the hippie Cas that was mindful of feelings. He knew Jo had questions. He could tell by the occasional glances they would share. If she was asking questions they were not being answered through him.
It seemed Jo was doing everything in her power not to be in close quarters with him anyways. At first, he thought she was keeping her distance to prove herself. He recalled what Ellen has said about Jo not being made for the life when they crossed paths back in River Pass, Colorado. He wondered if those small comments Jo knew Ellen made were fueling Jo to always volunteer for patrol, weapons training, and runs. Since she was cleared by Med Bay for duty, it seemed Jo didn't know how to sit still. So when they did happen to cross paths all those talks were superficial about logistics and security. They were all impersonal.
In ways, she did know him better than Cas so just the head nods and brief talks on who was taking shifts on watch were a blessing.
But even if he didn't want to think about Jo, it was damn near impossible with how much everyone gushed about her.
He heard a million times a day about how she was amazing and sweet. Easy to talk to too. The younger girls in camp loved her while the boys leered. The apocalypse did not change how she filled out her jeans. Dean shook his head. The last thing he needed was to be having those thoughts in the middle of the day distracting him.
He squinted as he looked at the camp. The camp was rapidly expanding and soon new cabins would be needed. They needed to expand their crops. Invest in more greenhouses. With the winter, they needed to get material to combat the cold. The last thing they needed was a sickness to run through their camp.
He moved along the parameter making sure everything was reinforced. All the sigils were still in tack when he came across Krissy Chambers. He never met her father, Lee. He didn't think he ever heard of a Chambers family. From the rundown he got, it did seem they were friends with Bobby. It wasn't surprising he and Sam weren't the only kids to darken Bobby's footsteps.
Just based on the backstory, it made sense that Jo and she would have some sort of hybrid mother-and-sister relationship. It was clear that Krissy admired Jo. Just from the way the teenage girl dressed and moved, he could see Jo's mannerisms in her. He knew that had to be some sort of ego boost for Jo, but he also knew the crushing weight of having someone wanting to emulate them.
"Hey, Dean," Krissy greeted.
Unlike Jo, Krissy had no problem talking to him. It took him a while to get used to her deadpan tone and to decipher when she was fucking with him and being serious. But no matter what, she was a pain in his ass with her constant challenging of him. He didn't know if he was speaking with Krissy or Jo half the time.
"Krissy," he replied gruffly.
"I need you to talk to Jo. She is acting like an overprotective mother."
Dean snorted. Oh, how have the tables turned he thought. "Why would anything I have to say matter?"
He had no weight in how Jo decided to raise Krissy. Krissy was her ward. He knew Jo was feeling the responsibility of keeping another person alive. He wasn't going to interfere with that. It wasn't his place or business.
Krissy didn't reply, but she leveled him with a look. A look he would see in Jo's eyes that she clearly inherited from Ellen. It was a look that made him squirm in his pants even as a grown-ass adult.
Dean huffed. "Fucking fine, but I'm not making any promises."
A smile came across the girl's features. The smile showcased that she was a teenager. It softened her as she trailed off to the two other new teens that arrived at camp before Jo and Krissy did. Aiden and Josephine were orphans they found living in a storage unit. They were like Krissy eager to learn and overzealous with proving their worth.
He didn't seek Jo out immediately. One, he knew she was busy working in the Med Bay. He noticed Jo was always working in different areas. She didn't have a specialty per see. She had no problem learning different skill sets to make the camp run. So the first night he didn't bother in seeking her out to have a conversation she would probably chew him out for.
On the second day he was scheduled for a run and by the time they came back two days later, he slept for 12 hours after that.
He decided before Krissy was banging on his door that he should hold up the end of his deal. He ignored Cas and Chuck's cheeky gazes as he inquired where Jo was. He noticed that Jo had become very close with these two, especially Chuck.
He wondered what the prophet was telling her, but he decided he didn't want to know. He never really inquired why Chuck didn't publish books with Ellen and Jo, or if he even wrote about them.
He made the journey to Jo's cabin which was more secluded than the rest. She had a semblance of privacy. Unlike his cabin, he was more in the center. If something were to happen he needed to be on the scene quickly.
As he made the trek through some overgrown grass, he thought maybe they should try to do some landscaping. He didn't care for the appearance of things, but with the increasing flow of kids, he knew they deserved to have some semblance of normalcy. For all intent and purposes, this was their home. No matter what he felt about it, it was about everyone else. The kids needed a home.
He wasn't going to this meeting empty-handed though. He managed to find some M&Ms and grabbed two bottles of beer. He wasn't above bribing to soften her up.
He knocked on the red door of her cabin, which was opened almost immediately. If she was shocked to see him, she didn't show it. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun. She had a grey long-sleeve shirt on with a pair of black tight-fitting jeans. She looked relaxed and comfortable. She didn't say anything as she opened the door wider to let him in.
Her cabin was vastly different from his. His cabin was used just for rest and to store weapons. He didn't have much. He prioritized just keeping the necessities.
So it was slightly surprising to see Jo's cabin. They had a loveseat with an afghan draped over it. There were books on the coffin table. He noticed a small bookshelf that had even more books and board games. He even spotted candles lining surfaces. Not just the plain unscented white, red, and black ones, but those fancy candles he would see in department stores. It smelled like cinnamon and honey.
It was homey. It was her home. It made him think of what she said when she first arrived about her traveling from place to place since the start of this. It made him wonder if she finally felt safe.
"What's up?" She asked as she spotted the M&Ms and beer.
"Housewarming gift."
Jo raised an eyebrow. "You are going to have to do better than that."
Dean passed over a beer. "Just wanted to make sure you are okay."
Jo opened her beer bottle with practice ease against her countertop. "I mean all things considered I can't complain. Are you okay?"
"Right as rain," Dean replied as he popped open his bottle of beer and took a swing.
Jo eyed him but didn't say anything. She took a sip of the warm beer and sat on her couch.
Dean tried his best to not think about the last time he shared a beer with Jo. Instead of pushing Sam away, he would've asked him to stay. Maybe even suggested, instead of just hunting between the two of them, to tag along with Ellen and Jo. Go back and help Bobby get settled in more after losing his ability to walk.
Instead, he had let Sam leave. He sulked in his motel room and licked his wounds. He had already been prepared for Jo to knock on his door. He thought he got lucky that it was her rather than Ellen. The smack he received from the Harvelle matriarch had been enough for him. He thought maybe Jo would ask where Sam was, but knowing his brother, he probably downloaded the two Harvelle women about what was going on.
It immediately had him irritated as he looked at the blonde. He remembered grabbing the offered beer from her, but his mood was already set. He was still reeling from hell and knowing he broke the first seal had him spiraling even more. Now Sam was dealing with a demon blood addiction and his dad's words were echoing in his head about how if he couldn't save his brother he would have to kill him.
So the last thing he wanted was Jo worrying about him. He didn't need her getting sucked into the Winchester family drama. So it left him more irritable especially as she smiled as she opened both of their beers and made herself comfortable on the empty bed. Because everything he touched got ruined and he didn't need Jo on the list of things he would bring ruin to.
He didn't know exactly what he said, but it was enough for Jo to look at him with angry brown eyes. She didn't slam the door on the way out, but unlike Ellen, who wished him goodbye, her daughter was nowhere to be seen the following morning as they parted ways.
"You're not ones for personal visits, Dean."
He took a swing of his beer to hide his wince. "Krissy asked me to stop by."
Jo only nodded her head. She didn't seem surprised or mad. She took a long sip of her beer. "In a weird twist of fate, I think I understand where my mom was coming from with wanting to hunt."
"You think she isn't ready?"
"Depends on what it is. She's good. She needs to learn. But with everything going on, one mistake wouldn't get her killed, but someone else."
"She wouldn't be on any serious runs. She's been doing real good on perimeter watch."
Jo smirked. "Dean, she acts like me. I'm sure I was embarrassingly cringy know it all on that first hunt."
A ghost of a smile came over Dean's lip. Sure, at the time, he had been pissed Jo had conned her way into the hunt. There were mistakes not from the tactical aspect. Clearly, she knew how to handle a weapon and was very pragmatic. She knew how to make a case file as well. He thought she could have done that for a living. He wouldn't have minded getting cases from her with how many details she put into it and catching patterns.
As with most first-time hunters, it was that tinge of cockiness. Jo had that in spades because of what she thought the job was. That urge to follow in her father's footsteps sometimes blinded them to the reality that not everyone should follow in their parent's footsteps.
"You handled yourself well. Impressed me."
Jo snorted. "I'm sure I did."
Dean played with the bottle cap. "You know I would look out for her, Jo."
"I know," Jo agreed. "But I don't want that on your shoulders."
Dean didn't know what to say about that. Maybe this was why he was avoiding Jo. She never bullshitted him. Even Cas went along with his plans and avoidance of things, but Jo wouldn't. If she had been here from the start then maybe he wouldn't be the way he was now.
He didn't have a response for her. The beer for once made his stomach feel heavy. He could feel it sloshing around. He left her cabin.
She didn't stop him.
Jo thought the camp was set up nicely. She didn't have much to compare it to as every camp she had come across got wiped out despite having walls. So the fact Dean has been able to keep a group of survivors alive and well with minimal attacks was a miracle.
On top of that, everyone seemed to be happy. There were kids laughing and playing. She would see groups of elderly knitting and gardening. There was a small school set up for education in Math, English, and even hunting.
This was a camp that would be written in the History books when hopefully this would end. Although there was the fear that maybe this wouldn't end. This was the new normal for the world. She didn't know what was worse knowing how things were before or growing up thinking things were normal.
But she was proud of Dean even if she knew that he didn't really have the option of not putting all of this on his shoulders.
This exterior Dean had built was not of the Dean she last encountered. In fact, Jo felt the only time she ever really got a glimpse of the real Dean was their first couple encounters when he admitted he was too far in his grief to flirt with her and they both admitted it was the wrong time and wrong place. But after that, in other encounters with Dean, she could see the performances he gave everyone.
And with time away, her crush for Dean had dulled. She grew up and became embarrassed by how forward she was. After all, the words that the demon possessing Sam taunted to her rang in her ears of her being a little schoolgirl that Dean only saw as a sister. The fact that Dean never called her after that incident was proof enough that she needed to grow up.
And she did. Despite what others had to say, she proved herself more than capable.
She paused in her walk around the perimeter to pull up the collar of her jacket to fight the chill. She needed to invest in a hat as her ears were getting cold.
The night was turning an inky black. Sometimes it was eerie with how dark the night could be not that there were no streetlights illuminating corners. She squinted as her eyes spotted an outline of a shape in the dying foliage surrounding the camp. She made the detour to what she deduced was an outline of a car.
More accurately the ruins of a car.
Her hand reached out and touched the frame of what she recognized as Baby. She had assumed Dean had put the car somewhere in storage. Most likely in the graveyard of metal at Bobby's place. She never expected to see the car gutted and empty.
The metal was cold and rusted. A dilapidated shadow of its former glory. Jo stuffed her hands into her pockets and resumed her walk around the perimeter.
And as much as things have changed, it seemed something hadn't as Jo watched two girls fight over some men including Dean.
Jo had already got sized up by Risa regarding Dean. She wasn't sure where that came from as Jo didn't deny that she knew Dean before through hunting, but that was all she gave away regarding any type of relationship with Dean. Nothing for Risa to feel threatened over. She had ignored Chuck's knowing eyes after that interaction. It was weird to know that he knew her before she even met him. He had written about her and Dean's first meeting and knew about most if not all of their interactions.
Although apparently what he wrote wasn't deemed good or important enough to be published.
The drama was a nice distraction. It provided a sense of normalcy from the world before.
And it was not always doom and gloom.
It was a particularly sunny day despite it leaking furthermore into winter. Jo wasn't listed for anything. She had a day off so to speak. She had found a small clearing with a picnic bench to relax on. She placed a blanket on the tabletop and relaxed.
She sighed feeling the warmth the sun was providing. She was going to miss the summer and being able to sunbathe in a bikini.
She couldn't have been laying out for more than 10 minutes when she heard the sound of boots walking towards her. She knew the person was being loud on purpose.
She knew it was Dean.
Things were different between them. She could admit with her arrival at camp she was avoiding him. She didn't really understand the reasons why. Just everything was so different and the history between them was so loaded. It was clear the Dean she knew wasn't the Dean that people knew. This Dean was colder. This Dean was a soldier.
It was easier to assimilate into the camp without being in Dean's shadow because she knew how Dean could be.
She knew he was avoiding her too so it seemed to be a mutual feeling. That was until Krissy. Jo knew she was being slightly overprotective when it came to Krissy. She knew what Krissy was capable of. Yet, as much as the girl insisted she was ready, Jo knew that Krissy was not ready for the long runs when it came to clearing out big department stores. There was more risk in coming across herds of many creatures. She didn't feel Krissy was there yet. The girl felt she had too much to prove and it could lead to mistakes. Jo knew that from experience.
She wasn't surprised Krissy had turned to Dean. Yet, somehow that had been the bridge to thaw whatever they thought was needed in not speaking to one another.
"Better be careful," Dean warned. "We don't have a stockpile of sunscreen."
Jo snorted.
The bench creaked beneath Dean's weight. She assumed he was keeping watch over her. She was sure that wasn't going to help with Risa's attitude. But Jo allowed herself to relax completely.
She liked how Dean was okay with the silence.
It was an impromptu run. As they found more people and the camp became more optimistic about the lack of accidents, they were longing for the old days. The celebrations of holidays and all the decorations that came with it. The camp needed arts and crafts essentially. Something that Dean didn't consider too much of a priority.
However, he was itching to get out of the camp. Besides, he never knew when they could come across a gold mine of goods.
With the rush of the run, it meant that he and Jo would be on the same run team. This one could only be for the most skilled people. They were going to be in and out. A quick run with no room for mistakes.
He wasn't surprised that it was all business with Jo. There was a nervous energy when they first got in his truck. Yet, Jo had slid in an REO Speedwagon CD, and the smile she had thrown him had unthawed that last piece of barrier between them.
He listened while Jo sang along with Kevin Cronin. He may have joined in on a song or two. During the run itself, he got to witness firsthand how much Jo has grown. He was telling the truth that she wasn't a bad hunter. It was clear she had the skills to be a hunter. She moved effortlessly through the store. She was able to quickly find what they needed.
He didn't have to direct or worry. He didn't have that same feeling he had on that first hunt with her in wanting to keep a strict eye on her. For some reason, he didn't know if he felt relieved or disappointed. What he did know for sure was that Ellen would be proud. He knew Ellen didn't support Jo wanting to hunt, but she was a natural. He couldn't imagine how Jo felt not having that true support for what she wanted.
But Jo was good out in the field. Better than anyone probably gave her credit for. It made him wonder if he had called Jo after Sam got possessed by Meg if things would have gone differently. He knew deep down probably not considering what the angels - God - had in store for his family. Yet, maybe the world wouldn't be in the state it was because of his circle not just being his brother. Maybe he could've shouldered the weight of the world better if he had the warmth of Jo at his side.
Dean laughed as Jo bounced over to his truck with a canvas bag under her arm. They had looted a Wal-Mart. She was proudly displaying a CD that had the Greatest Hits of Journey.
Dean didn't bother knocking as he pushed the door open to Jo's cabin. Since that run, Jo had seemed to become his number two. Even with Cas being his most trusted confidant, Dean never formally delegated he had a second in command. He didn't see the need to or maybe no one really fit the role in how he needed them to until Jo came back into his life.
That meant he needed unlimited access to his second in command. It meant more time for them together with their heads pressed together on how to really fortify the camp. How to expand and live again. Maybe Jo was thawing him a bit.
So he didn't see the point in knocking on Jo's door. They were going to have a quick meeting and she should have been there. What he didn't expect was to find Krissy and Aiden on the couch making out and hands underneath clothing.
Krissy didn't look apologetic, which almost made him snort. Aiden, on the other hand, looked as if he was going to shit a brick. It was nice knowing Dean could have some people cowering in his presence.
"Where's Jo?" He asked gruffly.
"Chuck grabbed her regarding a leaky cabin," Krissy informed him succinctly.
Dean nodded his head. He eyed the two teenagers and calculated his next move. Dean had a fondness for Krissy. She was eager to learn and be a part of the team. She had Jo's determination. He was slightly shocked that she would be making out with Aiden as she gave off an air of disinterest when it came to things outside of hunting and runs.
"How long has this been going on?" He asked looking back and forth between the two.
Krissy huffed. "Are we really doing this?"
Dean ignored Krissy's words as he turned and stared at Aiden. The kid looked back and forth from him to Krissy. "Do you want to deal with me or Jo?" Dean probed.
Aiden scratched the back of his head. "A month or so."
"Hmmm and Jo knows?"
Aiden's cheeks turn pink and he looked at Krissy for answers. Dean gathered Jo didn't know about the romantic aspect of this relationship.
"You guys having sex?"
"Dean!" Krissy yelled, her cheeks now an apple red.
"Hey, the last thing we need is an unplanned pregnancy. I can't tell you guys what to do, but you need to be safe." Dean informed them. He wasn't their parent and he was not going to try to be. He knew at the end of the day, they were going to do what they wanted in regard to this. The very least was they could be safe about it.
Krissy pursed her lips in a tight line. Aiden's leg was bouncing.
Neither seemed to want to answer. Before Dean could threaten sentry duty and maybe put them on shifts at the daycare, Jo walked through the door.
He watched as she assessed the room. "What's going on?" Her voice was cool, calm, and collected.
He looked at the two teens to give them a chance to speak, but neither seemed interested in volunteering.
Dean sighed. "Caught these two making out on the couch."
Jo raised an eyebrow. She threw a look that asked was that all. Dean wiggled his fingers indicating that their hands were definitely exploring.
Jo sighed. "Are you two having sex, Aiden?"
Dean watched as Aiden shook his head and Krissy's face turned sour.
"Aiden, I think it's best you go home," Jo said gently. "No more visits unsupervised for now."
Aiden didn't need to be told twice as he scrambled off the couch and out of the cabin. Dean was sort of confused that Krissy would be attracted to a guy like Aiden. But maybe Aiden was the soft edge she was missing in her life.
Jo kissed her teeth as she watched the boy scramble out of the cabin. "Do you have anything to say, Krissy?"
Krissy sighed deeply. "It was just kissing."
"I'm sure it was," Jo agreed. "But I don't appreciate you sneaking him into the cabin for the past two weeks."
Dean watched as Krissy turned crimson all the way down to her neck.
"We also know about the parties you teens throw in the woods," Jo added.
"That -...nothing happens there," Krissy said lamely.
"Yeah, I'm sure considering the bathroom brew Ollie makes really doesn't dull the senses." Jo countered back. Damn, Dean thought, Jo really was Ellen's daughter.
"So what's my punishment?"
"I don't know yet," Jo looked at him. "We'll have to figure something out. But for now, you can go in your room and work on the sigil assignment from class."
Dean hid his surprise at being included in this. Krissy didn't object as marched into her room.
Jo eyed the couch and scrunched her nose. "Do I even want to sit on that couch?"
Dean chuckled as he stood behind the couch. "They didn't get that far." Jo fixed the afghan on the couch and began tidying up the place. It seemed all very domestic. "You know you handled that well."
Jo paused what she was doing and looked up at him with a look of disbelief. "They weren't being as slick as they thought. Besides, I've done worst."
Dean had no doubt that Jo had done worse. He imagined how that went under Ellen's nose. "So you going to put her on sentry duty?"
"Nah, I was thinking about maybe two weeks at the daycare," Jo smirked. She stood next to him and leaned against the couch. "I mean as long as they are being careful, I'm not going too crazy about it. Considering how everything is…it's nice to know teenage hormones are still rampant in the apocalypse."
"I don't think hedonism is ever going out of style."
Jo nudged him with her elbow. "And you would know all about that, right?"
Dean snorted. Yes, the apocalypse didn't stop him from having a cold bed. He didn't think he would ever abandon his vices of alcohol and sex. At least with sex, it wasn't a selfish act with him. At least someone else was benefiting too.
He wrapped his around her shoulders bringing her to his side. "Well, at least I have you to keep me on the straight and narrow." Jo shook her head. "No one here is tempting you down the path of hedonism."
Jo rolled her eyes and he wouldn't be surprised if she saw her brain. "Be serious, Dean."
"I am. What?"
Jo shook her head. "Nothing."
Dean decided not to press her or the fact that she hadn't removed herself from his hold. He didn't want to ponder too much how she felt nice in his hold. He cleared his throat. It was time to get back to business. "So Krissy said you were dealing with a leaky cabin."
Even if they didn't keep track of the dates, Dean's body was just conditioned to know certain dates. He knew today was just November 2nd.
He knew he was in a foul mood. He had snapped at people for no reason. He was stomping around camp and people were giving him a wide berth. Worse, he could see people were hurt he had turned back into their cold, heartless leader.
But he didn't think time would ever dull the ache this day created in him.
Instead of souring the atmosphere, he marched back into his cabin. He grabbed his cache of weapons from his guns to knives. He decided to sharpen the knives and clean the guns not like he didn't do that at least every other day to kill time.
The sun was setting when he heard familiar footsteps coming up his stairs. The person didn't bother knocking as they let themselves in.
Jo walked in bringing in the cool air. She had a plate of food for him that she set in front of him. She pointedly ignored his huff of annoyance as she placed it in front of the gun parts he had laid out.
Jo took the seat opposite him. She didn't bother helping him clean his weapons. She only put her feet up on the table and leaned back in her chair. He was sure she got comments about his mood. The blonde probably got a full rundown of every misdemeanor he did today.
"I know I am an asshole, Jo."
Jo didn't disagree with his statement.
Dean clenched his jaw as he placed his gun down and looked at the dinner before him. The meals were simple. It was rice with some jerky. He took a couple of bites of the rice before he returned his focus back to Jo. She was cleaning her nails with her knife.
"Is it Sam and your Mom?"
Dean gave a broken sigh. He didn't even know at this point with his family. Everything was so complicated when it came to them. He didn't want to be a 34-year-old man crying about how he missed his mom. But he did. He didn't know what was worst the fact he still had some memories of what life was like before she died or the fact he got to meet his mother and learned she wanted out of this Life. She didn't want this for her family. Then her death propelled his dad on a path his mother fought hard to leave.
At this point, he couldn't really hold his anger at his dad for that. He could be angry about how his dad treated him and Sam. His dad took monopoly on the grief over their mom. His father acted like he was the only that lost her.
And some days he didn't know if he was jealous that Sam didn't have memories of his mom. He couldn't miss something he never had. Sure, Dean could talk about her and repeat that she loved him. But Sam only had an idea of who she was. He wasn't denying that Sam missed their mom. He knew Sam did in a way Dean wouldn't be able to understand.
"My whole family," he finally answered. Maybe that was the anger and guilt that came because he blamed his family. He tried to be the good son, the protector of Sam, and the perfect soldier for none of it to matter in the end. "You ever feel mad at your dad about being in the Life."
"Of course," Jo admitted. "Anger is a part of grieving. I still get angry. At both him and my mom."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'm mad at my dad for just hunting. Mad at my mom for still operating a hunter bar, but then trying to stop me from hunting."
"But you wouldn't know the truth."
Jo clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Yeah, Catch 22, right?"
Dean hummed in agreement. "I think…I'm just mad at Sam," Dean admitted. He had been mad at his brother since he figured out he had gone to Ruby and allowed her to manipulate him to drink demon blood. He knew that Ruby took advantage of his brother. And at this point, the world was working against Sam to make the right choice. Dean knew that. He knew that Sam had been pushed to a decision that had already been set for him.
Yet, he didn't know why Sam would say yes. He didn't know why his brother would allow the devil to jump into him after everything.
"River Pass was the last time you saw him?"
Dean nodded his head. Now he felt shame and guilt because he didn't follow his dad's orders. For once, Dean wanted to be selfish with his pain. He couldn't sweep the pain of Sam's action under the rug.
"It's okay to be angry, Dean. Angry and sad. The two are like mutually exclusive."
"I'm sorry. I didn't tell you about it," he told her. He knew Cas had been the one. No one really knew about Sam. Most knew he had a brother, but most of the camp survivors didn't know the full context of how the Winchesters played a role in this new world.
Jo gave him a small smile. "Just don't be afraid to talk to me, Dean."
"I'm sorry about your mom."
Since Jo came to camp, she hadn't mentioned anything about her mom. He only got that she was gone. She never divulged the details and he wasn't going to press.
Jo went quiet as her fingertips tapped the tabletop. "I'm sorry about Bobby."
Jo moved up from her chair to give him back his privacy.
"Stay." He said before his brain realized what he had done.
"You sure?"
Dean nodded his head as he finished his dinner.
Jo stayed the rest of the night.
Dean didn't really have off days. There was something that always needed to be done. Having idle hands shouldn't be a concept. However, somehow, Cas had somehow managed to give him a couple of free hours at least once a week, on what they concluded was Sunday. He decided to ignore Cas' reasoning behind that.
He preferred not being in Cas's sex cabin so the fallen angel would come over to his cabin. They usually just played cards. The currency was candy, toilet paper, and beer. However, Dean had been weary of placing beer as a wager considering Cas' not-so-hidden pill addiction. Still, Dean did happen to enjoy those couple hours of playing cards especially as Cas did get gradually better. His poker face still sucked ass though.
"You've been spending a lot of time with Joanna Harvelle," Cas stated bluntly. They had switched to playing Go Fish of all things.
Dean picked up a card. He wasn't going to answer a question Cas already knew the answer to.
"Risa's been pissy lately too," Cas added.
Dean rolled his eyes. It wasn't even as if they were exclusive. Dean didn't want to be an asshole about things, but he never made Risa any promises. Besides, it wasn't as if he slept with every newcomer that came into the camp. He wasn't that much of a leech. "Are we gossiping now?"
Cas didn't respond as he picked up a card.
Dean scowled as a thought popped into his head. "And don't try to recruit Jo for your orgies."
Cas' lips twitched. "I'm all about consent, Dean."
Dean raised an eyebrow. He didn't want to think too deep how angels thrived off consent despite it leaning on the dubious side, but demons didn't.
"You know Dean, sometimes good things do happen."
Cas had told him those words before and Dean tried to cling to that.
But look where it got him.
Christmas came quickly and they were rewarded with a White Christmas. The kids were out laughing and having snowball fights. They were able to pick up various toys and gifts for parents to pick through for small gift exchanges. The adults were keeping watch and making sure that they kept up traditions with the decorated trees, Yule log, and Egg Nog.
Dean thought about the last time he celebrated Christmas with Sam. He knew Sam did it more for his benefit than anything. And when he came back from Hell, they didn't do anything.
Dean did partake in some of the festivities. He knew that there was a party happening for the teens and young adults. Jo had been the force behind that one as it was happening in the bar they had set up. It was basically another version of the Roadhouse. At first, he didn't see the benefit to have a bar built. Yet, it helped with morale and was a hot spot for people to wind down at.
Dean was trudging along the perimeter as he didn't have much to do. His Christmas gift was to actually have a day off as if that could ever happen. So he was making sure everyone on watch was doing their job. He was going to probably head to his cabin and drink the bottle of Jim Bean Cas had gotten him.
"I thought we told you no work today?"
Dean turned to find Jo in a new pink knitted beanie with a matching scarf courtesy of Krissy, who had also knitted him a black hat and scarf.
"Just enjoying a nice walk."
"Sure," Jo said not believing him.
"Shouldn't you be at the party?"
"Not my age group, Dean," she replied. "Besides, I need to give you your gift."
Dean frowned. "I thought we agreed to no gifts."
"And what made you think that I would listen?"
"You're a pain in my ass, Jo," he grumbled as he followed her to her cabin.
Dean tapped his snow-covered boots and quickly unlaced them. He placed them on the rug next to Jo's. She had disappeared into her room for his gift. He wandered into her kitchen hoping she had some beer. He was surprised to find a six-pack.
"Merry Christmas."
Dean turned to find Jo holding out a wrapped square present. He raised an eyebrow as he accepted the lite gift. He knew from weight and shape alone that it was a vinyl record.
Dean tore off the piece of wrapping paper and he immediately recognized the crumpling wall of the album art.
A six-pack. Zeppelin IV.
Dean smirked. All that was missing was the pizza.
"Is it still the wrong time, wrong place?" Jo asked.
Dean licked his lips as he placed the album on her countertop. He was quick as he swept Jo in his arms. He pressed a bruising kiss onto her lips, which she eagerly returned.
He repeated Cas words to himself on a loop.
Good things do happen, Dean.
#dean winchester#jo harvelle#dean winchester fanfiction#jo harvelle fanfiction#dean x jo#chesterville#dean winchester x jo harvelle#spn#spn fanfic#supernatural#untilmynextstory
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Chesterville Concept Art 6 (Tumblr)
Snacks (Part 3)
Chesterville: This crossover comic strip has all my original characters interacting with each other while going about their usual lives in a thriving metropolitan city.
#alanstudios#imaginalanation#comicstrip#webcomic#webcomicseries#crossover#comedy#conceptart#alancomicstrip#roseythechinchilla#mugsy#dangerman#mugsyscrewball#demon#killjoyjones#garrettwad#atomsdale#robotknights#nerdsvsjocks#crashcallahan#worstdayofmylife#scarley#crusaders#bencroft#nicolasfinch#sanctuarytales#sciencefantasy#chesterville#snacks#food
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Staark
Staark
We are a Melbourne based commercial builder with a strong focus on fitouts and refurbishments, transforming retail spaces across Victoria.
Address: 20/150 Chesterville Rd. Cheltenham 3192
Phone No: (03) 8844 4868
Mail: [email protected] Website: https://staark.com.au
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