SPN FIC - In a Single Breath
That night: November 2, 1983.
CHARACTERS: Mary
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 246 words
IN A SINGLE BREATH
By Carol Davis
Your life flashes before your eyes, they say - and hers does, it certainly does, in the span of a single breath.
Her father's eyes gone yellow.
John lying dead in her arms.
That monster telling her Ten years and No one'll get hurt, as long as I'm not interrupted.
A lifetime of training, studying, observing, all gone out the window when that monster asked her if she'd rather spend the rest of her life alone. She should have known better? Yes, she should have. Should have known there could be no good end to any of it - and there isn't, because that thing is here now, a hand resting on the rail of Sam's crib, wearing that same oily smile.
NOT TEN YEARS! she thinks ferociously. The ten years was up at the beginning of May, when Sam was born. It was up six months ago.
You forfeited, she thinks. You son of a bitch.
And she thinks: I should have told John.
John, who is a warrior as much as she ever was; who could have helped her prepare for this, guard against it. Together, they might have stood a chance of winning. Instead, she chose to protect him. The boy who used-to-be, she realizes. The man who once believed in happily ever after.
He won't get that now, will he?
In the span of that single breath, she sees her past - and she sees her future.
This battle's over, without having ever been fought.
* * * * *
CHARACTERS: Mary
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 246 words
IN A SINGLE BREATH
By Carol Davis
Your life flashes before your eyes, they say - and hers does, it certainly does, in the span of a single breath.
Her father's eyes gone yellow.
John lying dead in her arms.
That monster telling her Ten years and No one'll get hurt, as long as I'm not interrupted.
A lifetime of training, studying, observing, all gone out the window when that monster asked her if she'd rather spend the rest of her life alone. She should have known better? Yes, she should have. Should have known there could be no good end to any of it - and there isn't, because that thing is here now, a hand resting on the rail of Sam's crib, wearing that same oily smile.
NOT TEN YEARS! she thinks ferociously. The ten years was up at the beginning of May, when Sam was born. It was up six months ago.
You forfeited, she thinks. You son of a bitch.
And she thinks: I should have told John.
John, who is a warrior as much as she ever was; who could have helped her prepare for this, guard against it. Together, they might have stood a chance of winning. Instead, she chose to protect him. The boy who used-to-be, she realizes. The man who once believed in happily ever after.
He won't get that now, will he?
In the span of that single breath, she sees her past - and she sees her future.
This battle's over, without having ever been fought.
* * * * *