[i'm late, i'm late!] :happy b-day!:
=ashamed!= Aaah, I'm late, but hopefully not too late. :] Happy Belated B-Day,
tigriswolf! You get VOLTA.
VOLTA
[EARTH INTRUDERS]
The Tree-God blinks slowly, lethargically at the bleeding man before him, slowly choosing his words.
"We protect our own," his voice rumbles, "as much as we can. We were here first, human, and we are dwindling,"
The man still glares up at him defiantly, even if he understands. The God cannot blame him, as he's harmed his own. But they are both sprouts, with much to learn.
[WANDERLUST]
You know the difference between nomads and those with wanderlust, and this man and his children definitely slip into the first.
You pour his coffee and take in the tired, hard lines in his face. He's weathered, almost older than you think he should be. His eldest has a serious look on his face that he probably shouldn't have, but when he smiles at you when you take his order and some of his youth comes back.
The youngest is only three and looks the least weathered and it somehow makes the greatest difference.
You don't see them again but you think about what happened to them from time to time.
[THE DULL FLAME OF DESIRE]
Mary can't pull Dean into her lap anymore, and John's still getting his head wrapped around two, two sons.
He spoons around her, kisses her neck as he rests his hands against her belly and imagines what two sons and one beautiful wife would be like.
He doesn't realize he's said it out loud until Mary entwines her fingers in his and sighs out, "Wonderful,"
Neither can see the spark of golden eyes outside their bedroom window and the slink of a black cat as it leaves.
[INNOCENCE]
It feels good, to break a girl into little fragments.
Sam's never been high before, but he's sure this is what they mean when it feels to be on speed, horse, crack. The scent of her blood is everywhere on him, smells so damn good, spurs him on to make her into a cubist movement all on her own, reinvent the human body.
Teeth should protrude out the shoulders.
Toes should replace fingers
Fingers should be dotted about one's knees.
The tongue should be beneath the neck.
He hums as he makes a new thing to gain an old one.
[I SEE WHO YOU ARE]
And even when he tears the girl into little cubist fragments, even when he's taken away her heart and given it to the scarred little demon beside him, he's confused.
Where's her soul?
Surely, it was tucked somewhere in her body, underneath all that confining skin, muscle and bone.
He'd looked in her heart, dug his fingers into it, nearly rent it to pieces looking for it, but he never found it.
How odd.
[VERTEBRAE BY VERTEBRAE]
She smiles down at him, underneath the moon. He can hear Dean and Sam distantly as she smiles wide, teeth glinting.
Her blond hair shines as she leans over to pick him up. It's perfect, too perfect.
He thinks he might be hyperventilating between her wooden face, flesh but not flesh and her inhuman grip on him, it's cold, but he can swear, swear that it's Mary's fingers he's feeling grinding his bones together.
She pulls him close, and he can smell her, her but it's not right because Mary never had an undertone of death, detachment like this.
"John," she says softly. "John, I missed you."
[PNEUMONIA]
In-between Dean and Sam, Mary has a miscarriage.
John isn't home and Dean's at the babysitter when she wakes up to find blood on her bed sheets.
It only takes ten minutes for the paramedics to arrive, but by then, the almost-child is gone in a wash of blood and Mary's tears.
She lies on the couch for days and days afterwards, tears on her face, covers to her chin and a hole in her chest. Sometimes she's with John, sometimes with Dean.
One night she dreams that a cat with yellow eyes jumps into her eyes and he asks her a wish.
She looked down at the cat and said, I want my baby back.
The cat had smiled at her, licked a stripe on her stomach.
A year later, the pregnancy test came back positive.
[HOPE]
To kill or not to kill.
Dean hates rolling over that at night, when he needs to be sleeping, when Sam needs to be sleeping.
He hates how his father's last words to him were utterly damning and the worse case of catch-22 on the goddamn planet and it makes him even angrier and sicker that John knew it, that they both knew it.
He can only look at Sam, trying to find sleep in the next bed and hope that he'll never have to make that choice, and if he does, he'll follow.
[DECLARE INDEPENDENCE]
It becomes easier and easier to suppress or to kill them.
He can do it while conversing with Michael, just with a flicker of thought is all it takes to decimated New York City or pull a wave of calm over Tokyo.
Ruby doesn't have to go out and murder everyone that which way anymore, not really, but he lets her do it anyway. He lets her enjoy what she does as long as it keeps everyone under his firm grip and lets the Creator know just how fucking serious his is about getting Dean's soul from Heaven's grasp.
[MY JUVENILE]
She left them too, too early.
There's nothing you can do about it.
She knows that, even as Uriel says it, but still. She should have done something, anything, even if it was a Demon, to stop herself from dying and had helped her stay with her family.
Why is the constant thing that plagues her mind, here in Heaven, and yet she will get no answers.
All she can do is watch and pray that her sons can make it out alright, that her husband can one day join her up here.
tigriswolf! You get VOLTA.
VOLTA
[EARTH INTRUDERS]
The Tree-God blinks slowly, lethargically at the bleeding man before him, slowly choosing his words.
"We protect our own," his voice rumbles, "as much as we can. We were here first, human, and we are dwindling,"
The man still glares up at him defiantly, even if he understands. The God cannot blame him, as he's harmed his own. But they are both sprouts, with much to learn.
[WANDERLUST]
You know the difference between nomads and those with wanderlust, and this man and his children definitely slip into the first.
You pour his coffee and take in the tired, hard lines in his face. He's weathered, almost older than you think he should be. His eldest has a serious look on his face that he probably shouldn't have, but when he smiles at you when you take his order and some of his youth comes back.
The youngest is only three and looks the least weathered and it somehow makes the greatest difference.
You don't see them again but you think about what happened to them from time to time.
[THE DULL FLAME OF DESIRE]
Mary can't pull Dean into her lap anymore, and John's still getting his head wrapped around two, two sons.
He spoons around her, kisses her neck as he rests his hands against her belly and imagines what two sons and one beautiful wife would be like.
He doesn't realize he's said it out loud until Mary entwines her fingers in his and sighs out, "Wonderful,"
Neither can see the spark of golden eyes outside their bedroom window and the slink of a black cat as it leaves.
[INNOCENCE]
It feels good, to break a girl into little fragments.
Sam's never been high before, but he's sure this is what they mean when it feels to be on speed, horse, crack. The scent of her blood is everywhere on him, smells so damn good, spurs him on to make her into a cubist movement all on her own, reinvent the human body.
Teeth should protrude out the shoulders.
Toes should replace fingers
Fingers should be dotted about one's knees.
The tongue should be beneath the neck.
He hums as he makes a new thing to gain an old one.
[I SEE WHO YOU ARE]
And even when he tears the girl into little cubist fragments, even when he's taken away her heart and given it to the scarred little demon beside him, he's confused.
Where's her soul?
Surely, it was tucked somewhere in her body, underneath all that confining skin, muscle and bone.
He'd looked in her heart, dug his fingers into it, nearly rent it to pieces looking for it, but he never found it.
How odd.
[VERTEBRAE BY VERTEBRAE]
She smiles down at him, underneath the moon. He can hear Dean and Sam distantly as she smiles wide, teeth glinting.
Her blond hair shines as she leans over to pick him up. It's perfect, too perfect.
He thinks he might be hyperventilating between her wooden face, flesh but not flesh and her inhuman grip on him, it's cold, but he can swear, swear that it's Mary's fingers he's feeling grinding his bones together.
She pulls him close, and he can smell her, her but it's not right because Mary never had an undertone of death, detachment like this.
"John," she says softly. "John, I missed you."
[PNEUMONIA]
In-between Dean and Sam, Mary has a miscarriage.
John isn't home and Dean's at the babysitter when she wakes up to find blood on her bed sheets.
It only takes ten minutes for the paramedics to arrive, but by then, the almost-child is gone in a wash of blood and Mary's tears.
She lies on the couch for days and days afterwards, tears on her face, covers to her chin and a hole in her chest. Sometimes she's with John, sometimes with Dean.
One night she dreams that a cat with yellow eyes jumps into her eyes and he asks her a wish.
She looked down at the cat and said, I want my baby back.
The cat had smiled at her, licked a stripe on her stomach.
A year later, the pregnancy test came back positive.
[HOPE]
To kill or not to kill.
Dean hates rolling over that at night, when he needs to be sleeping, when Sam needs to be sleeping.
He hates how his father's last words to him were utterly damning and the worse case of catch-22 on the goddamn planet and it makes him even angrier and sicker that John knew it, that they both knew it.
He can only look at Sam, trying to find sleep in the next bed and hope that he'll never have to make that choice, and if he does, he'll follow.
[DECLARE INDEPENDENCE]
It becomes easier and easier to suppress or to kill them.
He can do it while conversing with Michael, just with a flicker of thought is all it takes to decimated New York City or pull a wave of calm over Tokyo.
Ruby doesn't have to go out and murder everyone that which way anymore, not really, but he lets her do it anyway. He lets her enjoy what she does as long as it keeps everyone under his firm grip and lets the Creator know just how fucking serious his is about getting Dean's soul from Heaven's grasp.
[MY JUVENILE]
She left them too, too early.
There's nothing you can do about it.
She knows that, even as Uriel says it, but still. She should have done something, anything, even if it was a Demon, to stop herself from dying and had helped her stay with her family.
Why is the constant thing that plagues her mind, here in Heaven, and yet she will get no answers.
All she can do is watch and pray that her sons can make it out alright, that her husband can one day join her up here.