(A dimly lit bar. Jo leans against the counter, a half-empty glass in her hand. Niayesh sits across from her, silent. Jo doesn’t look at her at first.. just stares at the wall, then finally speaks.)

Jo: You know what I’ve learned? People are garbage. Most of them. They lie, they cheat, they stab you in the back and then ask why you’re bleeding on their floor. They don’t care. They take and take and give nothing back. And you wanna know the worst part? They think they’re the heroes of their own story. Every single one of them. But they’re not. They’re just… dirty. Selfish. Not worth saving.

(She takes a slow sip, then sets the glass down harder than she meant to.)

Jo: I’ve seen it. You’ve seen it. We’ve all seen it. The monsters aren’t just the ones with fangs and claws. Sometimes they’re the people next door. Sometimes they’re the ones who are supposed to love you. And you start thinking, why bother? Why fight for a world that’s already rotten to the core? Why bleed for people who wouldn’t even spit on you if you were on fire?

(She finally looks at Niayesh, eyes hard but tired.)

Jo: But then… you meet someone like Sam. Or Dean. Hell, like my mom. People who’ve been through the worst kind of hell and still somehow… still get up. Still fight. Still care. And you think.. maybe.. maybe there are others out there. Maybe not a lot. Maybe just a handful. But they exist. And they’re worth it. They’re worth saving. They’re worth fighting for. Even when it feels pointless. Even when you’re so damn tired you can barely stand.

(She runs a hand through her hair, exhales sharply.)

Jo: Yeah, I know. We’re exhausted. Sam and Dean? They’re running on fumes. Me? I’m running on spite and bad whiskey. But what else are we gonna do? Give up? Let the bastards win? Sit around and wait for the world to burn? No. That’s not us. That’s not what we do.

(She leans forward, voice dropping but fierce.)

Jo: So fuck it. Fuck all of it. The pain, the loss, the endless crap. We do our work. We save who we can. We fight the good fight even if no one ever thanks us. Because that’s who we are. That’s what we do. And maybe.. just maybe that’s enough.

(She picks up her glass, downs the rest, and slams it down.)

Jo: Now stop looking at me like that and grab your gear. We’ve got work to do.

(Niayesh still says nothing. Jo doesn’t need her to. She just nods once, and walks out.)