Women of Supernatural: Tessa! (Bobby pov)
Title: "Bobby Meets the Reaper"
Series: 42 Days of Metallicar and the Women of Supernatural #25
1450 words. PG. No warnings.
No spoilers -- this story is set after the Apocalypse is averted.
Featuring: Tessa, the Reaper, from 2.1 "In my time of dying" and 4.15 "Death Takes A Holiday." Also refers to 3.10 "Dream a Little Dream of Me."
Note: My other stories about the reaper include The Long Hall, The Night Weighs Heavy, and the Layla story.
Thanks to alias_chick for hosting 42 Days of Metallicar.
Bobby finished the note and laid it on the bedside table. He knew that if things went wrong, Dean would find it in the morning. It was a damn fool plan, and he knew it; but he had unfinished business, and now was as good a time as any. With the boys resting up, Apocalypse averted (at least this time around), Bobby at least knew someone would check on him in the morning if he wasn't up with the coffee made and eggs a frying.
After the ordeal with the dreamroot, this had been weighing pretty heavily on Bobby. Nearly being torn apart inside his own head by his own beloved wife? It might be stupid, but it bothered Bobby to think that after all these years, he still felt so guilty as to make this his weakness.
Bobby lifted the mug from the bedside table, and swirled the thick liquid it contained. Dreamroot, but with a few other additions. It smelled truly disgusting. He opened the old envelope and drew a dark hair from the bundle. If this worked, his wife's true spirit would appear to him in the dream, and he could really tell her how sorry he was. He knew she would forgive him -- she had been a good, loving person -- and then maybe he could rid himself of the nightmare images that fool Frost had planted there.
With a short prayer to the God he finally knew for a fact was listening, Bobby downed the foul concoction. Just like Dean and Sam had told him, nothing overtly changed, but when he looked around, he did notice a difference. Things in his room were a little cleaner, a little brighter. This boded well, Bobby thought, and he got to his feet. He was happy to note that his dream body was much more limber and pain free than his real body.
He cautiously made his way out of his room, his heart pounding a bit. This was a dream, he knew, but it felt very real -- and he remembered all too clearly the terrors he had faced when Frost had been controlling the dream before.
He crept quietly down the stairs. As with his bedroom, the house looked cleaner, brighter -- though it was still just as cluttered with books and relics as when he had gone to sleep, it was dusted and nicely organized.
He heard something in the kitchen, as though someone was in there, puttering around.
Closing his eyes, he tried to take a deep breath, to steady himself. This was what he wanted, to meet up with Julia in his dreams, to tell her that he loved her, that he was sorry he had killed her when she attacked him under the thrall of that demon -- that he'd devoted the rest of his life to understanding what had happened to her, and he'd managed to help a lot of people along the way, in her honor and memory. The thing in the dream had been just a distorted reflection of the beautiful woman that had married Bobby Singer, and he knew it -- but he had to shake that thing that Jeremy Frost had planted in his nightmare, like a revenant.
Bobby heard the screen door slam, and he opened his eyes.
He stepped into the kitchen, which was bright and clean and full of sunlight.
A pot of coffee was slowly dripping. The dishes were all washed, sparkling in the drainer.
Outside, he saw a flapping of laundry on the line. Julia had always loved the task of hanging laundry to dry.
He went through the screen door, letting it fall shut behind him with the old, comforting bang. The sun was bright outside, the sky a flawless early summer blue. He had to squint without a ballcap on --he'd taken off his hat before he drank the dreamroot. At least he had his boots on.
He heard the noise of a car coming up the driveway, through the junkyard. Even the yard was neater and shinier than usual, the rusted out bodies waiting to be scrapped were brilliantly rusted somehow.
Bobby frowned when he saw that it was the Winchesters' Impala. Were they coming to rescue him already? Damn. Too soon. He started over to meet them, when the driver side door opened and a pretty young woman got out.
Bobby didn't recognize her, so he immediately felt uneasy. Feeling a bit foolish, but not wanting to take chances, he'd done mental exercises to prepare for self-defense -- visualizing himself using weapons, like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. At this point, Bobby wasn't going for guns, but in his right hand he felt the comforting weight of a sturdy cane. A cane always put your attacker off-balance, because they expected you to need it.
"Hello?" Bobby called out.
"Hi, Bobby. I'm here about Julia," the woman said. Her black hair shone in the sun, like the wing of a crow.
Bobby felt a thrill of fear, but he wouldn't let it get a hold of him. "Who are you?" he asked, approaching her. "Where's Julia? And why have you got Dean's car?"
The woman sidestepped Bobby's questions, but answered, "Dean and I go way back. I'm kind of attached to the car by now, I see him in it so often." She patted the Impala on the roof, still standing near the open driver's door. "Would you like to come with me? I can take you to Julia."
Bobby felt an instant's joy, but then it was overridden by suspicion. "I'm not going anywhere till I know who -- or what-- you are."
The woman said, "I didn't really think you would. Still, it never hurts to ask. I'm Tessa. I know Dean's told you all about me."
Bobby took an involuntary step back. "You're a reaper!"
"Yes, that's one word for it." Still Tessa made no move toward him, so that was at least some comfort.
"But ... then... am I dead? or dying?" Bobby asked, in shock.
"No... but you took a big risk, trying to commune with the dead directly. You're lucky your formula was correct -- one ingredient awry and you would have sent your spirit on a nice little jaunt into Julia's rotted corpse -- and you would've been mad by the time your boys figured out enough to get you back."
Bobby shuddered in horror. He'd thought of that possibility, but the formula had seemed to take it into account. Lucky. Dumb luck, he guessed.
"But... if I'm not dying... and Julia's not here... then why are you here?" Bobby asked.
Tessa glanced toward the Impala. "Like I said, if you want, I can take you to Julia. A ride in Dean's car would be a nice way to go."
Bobby looked at her. The woman and the car seemed to magnify the rays of the sun till it hurt Bobby's eyes to look at them. More, he seemed to see a glowing white light inside the Impala, and he knew, that if he got in, he would never get out.
"But ... I can't just go! I only wanted to see her, to talk to her." Bobby felt the yearning for Julia well up inside him. It never truly faded, even after so many years. They had been so in love. He missed her so much.
"That's not how it works, you know that. Once a spirit crosses over, they don't come back. The only spirits on this side are just echoes, or the newly dead, or the crazy ones who refuse to leave until someone like the Winchesters breaks their hold. Those boys have helped me out a lot, you know," Tessa said, staring hard at Bobby. "That's why I'm willing to do you a favor, now. Get in the car, and I'll take you to her."
Bobby was surprised as he felt the tears slip free. "I can't do that. There's still so much I need to do here. Those boys need looking after... "
Tessa didn't smile, but she was gentle as she said, "It's not a one time offer. I'll be back for you, Bobby."
"At least I'll recognize you then," Bobby said. "But can you just tell her..."
"Bobby -- you know that she knows," Tessa said.
Tessa got back in the Impala, and as she slammed the door, Bobby woke up.
A delicious smell of bacon filled the house as he stumbled downstairs to the kitchen. Sam nodded at him from the table, where he was already at his laptop.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" Dean cheerfully greeted him, coffee ready and eggs a frying.
Series: 42 Days of Metallicar and the Women of Supernatural #25
1450 words. PG. No warnings.
No spoilers -- this story is set after the Apocalypse is averted.
Featuring: Tessa, the Reaper, from 2.1 "In my time of dying" and 4.15 "Death Takes A Holiday." Also refers to 3.10 "Dream a Little Dream of Me."
Note: My other stories about the reaper include The Long Hall, The Night Weighs Heavy, and the Layla story.
Thanks to alias_chick for hosting 42 Days of Metallicar.
Bobby finished the note and laid it on the bedside table. He knew that if things went wrong, Dean would find it in the morning. It was a damn fool plan, and he knew it; but he had unfinished business, and now was as good a time as any. With the boys resting up, Apocalypse averted (at least this time around), Bobby at least knew someone would check on him in the morning if he wasn't up with the coffee made and eggs a frying.
After the ordeal with the dreamroot, this had been weighing pretty heavily on Bobby. Nearly being torn apart inside his own head by his own beloved wife? It might be stupid, but it bothered Bobby to think that after all these years, he still felt so guilty as to make this his weakness.
Bobby lifted the mug from the bedside table, and swirled the thick liquid it contained. Dreamroot, but with a few other additions. It smelled truly disgusting. He opened the old envelope and drew a dark hair from the bundle. If this worked, his wife's true spirit would appear to him in the dream, and he could really tell her how sorry he was. He knew she would forgive him -- she had been a good, loving person -- and then maybe he could rid himself of the nightmare images that fool Frost had planted there.
With a short prayer to the God he finally knew for a fact was listening, Bobby downed the foul concoction. Just like Dean and Sam had told him, nothing overtly changed, but when he looked around, he did notice a difference. Things in his room were a little cleaner, a little brighter. This boded well, Bobby thought, and he got to his feet. He was happy to note that his dream body was much more limber and pain free than his real body.
He cautiously made his way out of his room, his heart pounding a bit. This was a dream, he knew, but it felt very real -- and he remembered all too clearly the terrors he had faced when Frost had been controlling the dream before.
He crept quietly down the stairs. As with his bedroom, the house looked cleaner, brighter -- though it was still just as cluttered with books and relics as when he had gone to sleep, it was dusted and nicely organized.
He heard something in the kitchen, as though someone was in there, puttering around.
Closing his eyes, he tried to take a deep breath, to steady himself. This was what he wanted, to meet up with Julia in his dreams, to tell her that he loved her, that he was sorry he had killed her when she attacked him under the thrall of that demon -- that he'd devoted the rest of his life to understanding what had happened to her, and he'd managed to help a lot of people along the way, in her honor and memory. The thing in the dream had been just a distorted reflection of the beautiful woman that had married Bobby Singer, and he knew it -- but he had to shake that thing that Jeremy Frost had planted in his nightmare, like a revenant.
Bobby heard the screen door slam, and he opened his eyes.
He stepped into the kitchen, which was bright and clean and full of sunlight.
A pot of coffee was slowly dripping. The dishes were all washed, sparkling in the drainer.
Outside, he saw a flapping of laundry on the line. Julia had always loved the task of hanging laundry to dry.
He went through the screen door, letting it fall shut behind him with the old, comforting bang. The sun was bright outside, the sky a flawless early summer blue. He had to squint without a ballcap on --he'd taken off his hat before he drank the dreamroot. At least he had his boots on.
He heard the noise of a car coming up the driveway, through the junkyard. Even the yard was neater and shinier than usual, the rusted out bodies waiting to be scrapped were brilliantly rusted somehow.
Bobby frowned when he saw that it was the Winchesters' Impala. Were they coming to rescue him already? Damn. Too soon. He started over to meet them, when the driver side door opened and a pretty young woman got out.
Bobby didn't recognize her, so he immediately felt uneasy. Feeling a bit foolish, but not wanting to take chances, he'd done mental exercises to prepare for self-defense -- visualizing himself using weapons, like Keanu Reeves in the Matrix. At this point, Bobby wasn't going for guns, but in his right hand he felt the comforting weight of a sturdy cane. A cane always put your attacker off-balance, because they expected you to need it.
"Hello?" Bobby called out.
"Hi, Bobby. I'm here about Julia," the woman said. Her black hair shone in the sun, like the wing of a crow.
Bobby felt a thrill of fear, but he wouldn't let it get a hold of him. "Who are you?" he asked, approaching her. "Where's Julia? And why have you got Dean's car?"
The woman sidestepped Bobby's questions, but answered, "Dean and I go way back. I'm kind of attached to the car by now, I see him in it so often." She patted the Impala on the roof, still standing near the open driver's door. "Would you like to come with me? I can take you to Julia."
Bobby felt an instant's joy, but then it was overridden by suspicion. "I'm not going anywhere till I know who -- or what-- you are."
The woman said, "I didn't really think you would. Still, it never hurts to ask. I'm Tessa. I know Dean's told you all about me."
Bobby took an involuntary step back. "You're a reaper!"
"Yes, that's one word for it." Still Tessa made no move toward him, so that was at least some comfort.
"But ... then... am I dead? or dying?" Bobby asked, in shock.
"No... but you took a big risk, trying to commune with the dead directly. You're lucky your formula was correct -- one ingredient awry and you would have sent your spirit on a nice little jaunt into Julia's rotted corpse -- and you would've been mad by the time your boys figured out enough to get you back."
Bobby shuddered in horror. He'd thought of that possibility, but the formula had seemed to take it into account. Lucky. Dumb luck, he guessed.
"But... if I'm not dying... and Julia's not here... then why are you here?" Bobby asked.
Tessa glanced toward the Impala. "Like I said, if you want, I can take you to Julia. A ride in Dean's car would be a nice way to go."
Bobby looked at her. The woman and the car seemed to magnify the rays of the sun till it hurt Bobby's eyes to look at them. More, he seemed to see a glowing white light inside the Impala, and he knew, that if he got in, he would never get out.
"But ... I can't just go! I only wanted to see her, to talk to her." Bobby felt the yearning for Julia well up inside him. It never truly faded, even after so many years. They had been so in love. He missed her so much.
"That's not how it works, you know that. Once a spirit crosses over, they don't come back. The only spirits on this side are just echoes, or the newly dead, or the crazy ones who refuse to leave until someone like the Winchesters breaks their hold. Those boys have helped me out a lot, you know," Tessa said, staring hard at Bobby. "That's why I'm willing to do you a favor, now. Get in the car, and I'll take you to her."
Bobby was surprised as he felt the tears slip free. "I can't do that. There's still so much I need to do here. Those boys need looking after... "
Tessa didn't smile, but she was gentle as she said, "It's not a one time offer. I'll be back for you, Bobby."
"At least I'll recognize you then," Bobby said. "But can you just tell her..."
"Bobby -- you know that she knows," Tessa said.
Tessa got back in the Impala, and as she slammed the door, Bobby woke up.
A delicious smell of bacon filled the house as he stumbled downstairs to the kitchen. Sam nodded at him from the table, where he was already at his laptop.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" Dean cheerfully greeted him, coffee ready and eggs a frying.