shatterverse | (no subject)

Guns mean gun ranges. Gun ranges, in Shatter, mean abandoned, broken buildings in the middle of nowhere. Abandoned, broken buildings in the middle of nowhere mean rodents to hunt.

Rachel leaves Tobias to it. She wanted out of the apartment, which is why she came with him, but wasn't actually in the mood to hunt herself. She just-- wanted out.

So she's in great positioning to hear the gun shots, despite being in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by abandoned broken buildings. Leaving the meadow Tobias is circling, Rachel wanders off toward the sound to check it out.

Tobias would tell her to be cautious. Rachel crunches through the leaves and pokes her head around the corner of the wall with a frown.

Sounds stick out. Somethings will never change.
A bullet leaves. The explosion sound fading as leaves rustle.
And she turns with the rifle leveled at the face watching her.

Then it dropped an inch with instant recognition. "Hey."

A rifle leveled at her face by an expert hand. Rachel should be afraid or worried or at least flinch.

She does none of it. But she does glance back to make sure Tobias isn't looking for her.

"Hey."

The rifle drops a little more.

It can't be propped up.
Hot metal isn't your friend.

"You look better."

Rachel blinks at her, frowns sligtly.

"Did I look bad?"

She sounds more baffled about this than anything.

"Last time." Shrugs a little bit.

Not that bad, but still better than.

Rachel frowns and thinks about this. It's been a while since she last saw Jo and there's been a lot since then. Mostly fighting. Mostly fighting with Tobias.

...fighting about Tobias. That happened, too. With Dean, and things he'd said.

Rachel's frown deepens, color rising in her face.

"Oh yeah," she grumbles.

Dean's a dick.
Even at his best, still a dick.
Jo's aware enough to know that.

Even if he's staying around. Well.
He went back to Hippie Hollow again.

Jo shrugged, again. "Happens."
She glanced back toward her target.
Catatonia still beat one set of stitches.

"More often than I'd like," Rachel grumbles, coming around to lean against the wall with her shoulder. She follows Jo's gaze to the target and looks at it with interest.

...oh yeah. That gun she left back at the apartment.

"Looks good," she points out quietly, examining the target.

Jo's lips curved. Not a smile.
Something hard and almost proud.

"It's better than yesterday at least."

Rachel blinks at her.

"How often have you been coming out here?"

Jo thought about it, squatting for more bullets.

"'Bout a week and half maybe? How's yours coming?"

"What, like daily?" Rachel frowns, looking at her. Jo doesn't like it when she gets concerned about her.

Jo can deal with it.

"My what?"

Jo look up from her bag.
Eyebrow cocked. "Shooting."

Rachel scowls because that was a distinct lack of answering her question.

Then-- looks more than a little awkward. "Oh. Uh. I haven't, really. There's been other stuff."

Other fights.

Jo's expression turned shrewd without looking away.

"Thought you were saying you wanted to get better."

Rachel scowls a little more - but shifts uncomfortably, embarrassed.

"Yeah, well... I've been busy." She crosses her arms and shrugs, shoulder against the wall. "So have you, I guess."

"Yeah. Here."