Never Forgot: Ruby to Meg
Title: Never Forgot: Ruby to Meg
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Meg/Ruby
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death, angst
Notes: A bunny that I've had for awhile and came in a rush last night.
Summary: Ruby wonders if Meg forgot the Middle Ages.
I always wanted to ask you if you remembered, but I was always too afraid to ask. I remember because you made me promise never to forget.
Your mother used to call you Meggie because her name was Margaret, but everyone else always called you Meg, and you used to say that was proof that we belonged together because “gem” was Meg backwards, and a ruby was a gem.
I never bothered to tell you I wasn’t named after the jewel.
I wanted to ask if you remembered, and that’s why you picked the Masters girl, if you had wanted your name so badly, or if it was just instinct.
You were always so good with words. you used to hide in the wood pile and whisper about how your father would come and give you power, and everything would change, about how no one would hit us with lilac switches anymore or stare down their noses at us while they crossed themselves--and you would take me with you.
And it happened, just as you said, and there was amusement in his yellow eyes as he taught both of us.
And then the stories changed, and it was about how perfect it would be when Lucifer returned. How the burnings would stop, and people would no longer throw their piss in the streets until by midday you couldn’t get away from the stink, or get the mud off your feet. We would be blessed, and given standing among all those who hurt us, and we would be immortal, together forever.
I always wanted o ask if you remembered the fever that burned and chilled me all at once, how you sat beside me through convulsions and coughing spells--and then at the end, you left. You said you were going to the Widow Olson for medicine, but despite all your words, I knew it was a lie.
We had spent all our coins on doctors, we hadn’t money for stale bread, let alone the midwife’s medicine. That, and I heard you crying from behind the closed door. It was all right you know, to lie--I knew you couldn’t watch me die.
You made me promise to never forget, but I used to stand in hell and wonder if you had. If you simply didn’t speak to me because you didn’t know me--because your humanity had been ripped away, or because you felt guilty that I was in this place with you.
I could never bring myself to ask, because I as too afraid of the answer. Hell would have been so much worse if I had known for sure you had forgotten me.
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Meg/Ruby
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death, angst
Notes: A bunny that I've had for awhile and came in a rush last night.
Summary: Ruby wonders if Meg forgot the Middle Ages.
I always wanted to ask you if you remembered, but I was always too afraid to ask. I remember because you made me promise never to forget.
Your mother used to call you Meggie because her name was Margaret, but everyone else always called you Meg, and you used to say that was proof that we belonged together because “gem” was Meg backwards, and a ruby was a gem.
I never bothered to tell you I wasn’t named after the jewel.
I wanted to ask if you remembered, and that’s why you picked the Masters girl, if you had wanted your name so badly, or if it was just instinct.
You were always so good with words. you used to hide in the wood pile and whisper about how your father would come and give you power, and everything would change, about how no one would hit us with lilac switches anymore or stare down their noses at us while they crossed themselves--and you would take me with you.
And it happened, just as you said, and there was amusement in his yellow eyes as he taught both of us.
And then the stories changed, and it was about how perfect it would be when Lucifer returned. How the burnings would stop, and people would no longer throw their piss in the streets until by midday you couldn’t get away from the stink, or get the mud off your feet. We would be blessed, and given standing among all those who hurt us, and we would be immortal, together forever.
I always wanted o ask if you remembered the fever that burned and chilled me all at once, how you sat beside me through convulsions and coughing spells--and then at the end, you left. You said you were going to the Widow Olson for medicine, but despite all your words, I knew it was a lie.
We had spent all our coins on doctors, we hadn’t money for stale bread, let alone the midwife’s medicine. That, and I heard you crying from behind the closed door. It was all right you know, to lie--I knew you couldn’t watch me die.
You made me promise to never forget, but I used to stand in hell and wonder if you had. If you simply didn’t speak to me because you didn’t know me--because your humanity had been ripped away, or because you felt guilty that I was in this place with you.
I could never bring myself to ask, because I as too afraid of the answer. Hell would have been so much worse if I had known for sure you had forgotten me.