brimstone [derek, laura, peter]
Author: espressopotluck
Title: brimstone
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Peter Hale
Summary: They are nothing but barely glowing embers now.
Warnings: Angst, descriptions of being burned to death, language
Word Count: 515
Prompt: 07 - Fire
Author's Notes: Some loose interpretations and guesstimations taken with characters' ages in this one.
He is 15, and his family is dead.
He wasn't even in the flames, but he swears he can feel them. He spends a day in the motel bathtub with the cold water blasting over his skin, scrubbing until his flesh is raw and pink, and still, he can feel the crackle and burn, the stench of it blackening. He sits at the bottom of the tub with his head in his hands, watching the water swirl down the drain, and he can't think of anything at all other than their screams. He can hear them echo; he wonders if its his heart, catching the reverberations of the sound and looping it back at him over and over again. The sobs take over until he can barely breathe, sucking in water and soap and choking on it, choking on everything and wishing that it would sweep him under like the ocean's tide.
He is 15, and his family is dead.
--
She is 16, and she's the alpha.
She stands in the hallway that isn't even a hall, the only vending machine at the end that's lighting up the entire corridor with garish blues and reds. She stares at the reflection of herself she can see in the faux-glass, in the plastic that she could shatter with her bare hands. She wonders if it would break just like them, in half, like her heart - unable to be repaired because too much of it has been crushed into a dusting of tiny slivers. She can hear Derek in the shower between walls and late-night infomercials, and it hurts when he cries because it's the same feeling welling up in her chest that she's forcing down with every fucking breath she takes. And she stands, and stands, and can't make a selection at the machine because she didn't bring any money with her - she didn't even bring her shoes, still left discarded near the doorway to the cheap room the sheriff was kind enough to rent them for the night.
She is 16, and she's the alpha.
--
He is 34, and he's lost everything.
The bits he knows come back in dreams, when he should be removed from everything, the cruelest form of torture to be caught in a web of nothing, unable to respond or move, but being only able to watch the flames devour his children over and over again. He hears them scream when he can't even hear the beep of the machine keeping him alive; he can feel them die, in his bones, in the skin that's frantically trying to heal and unable to replicate the cells, all the way down to his core that's been torn out and ripped apart. He's sees only orange, only red, feels only the heat at the side of his face reminding him that there is nothing to wake up for. His body breathes and his soul stops caring, and still, he hears them, sees them, reaches for their blackening fingers and finds nothing but scorching, scalding ash.
He is 34, and he's lost.
Title: brimstone
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: none
Character/s: Derek Hale, Laura Hale, Peter Hale
Summary: They are nothing but barely glowing embers now.
Warnings: Angst, descriptions of being burned to death, language
Word Count: 515
Prompt: 07 - Fire
Author's Notes: Some loose interpretations and guesstimations taken with characters' ages in this one.
He is 15, and his family is dead.
He wasn't even in the flames, but he swears he can feel them. He spends a day in the motel bathtub with the cold water blasting over his skin, scrubbing until his flesh is raw and pink, and still, he can feel the crackle and burn, the stench of it blackening. He sits at the bottom of the tub with his head in his hands, watching the water swirl down the drain, and he can't think of anything at all other than their screams. He can hear them echo; he wonders if its his heart, catching the reverberations of the sound and looping it back at him over and over again. The sobs take over until he can barely breathe, sucking in water and soap and choking on it, choking on everything and wishing that it would sweep him under like the ocean's tide.
He is 15, and his family is dead.
--
She is 16, and she's the alpha.
She stands in the hallway that isn't even a hall, the only vending machine at the end that's lighting up the entire corridor with garish blues and reds. She stares at the reflection of herself she can see in the faux-glass, in the plastic that she could shatter with her bare hands. She wonders if it would break just like them, in half, like her heart - unable to be repaired because too much of it has been crushed into a dusting of tiny slivers. She can hear Derek in the shower between walls and late-night infomercials, and it hurts when he cries because it's the same feeling welling up in her chest that she's forcing down with every fucking breath she takes. And she stands, and stands, and can't make a selection at the machine because she didn't bring any money with her - she didn't even bring her shoes, still left discarded near the doorway to the cheap room the sheriff was kind enough to rent them for the night.
She is 16, and she's the alpha.
--
He is 34, and he's lost everything.
The bits he knows come back in dreams, when he should be removed from everything, the cruelest form of torture to be caught in a web of nothing, unable to respond or move, but being only able to watch the flames devour his children over and over again. He hears them scream when he can't even hear the beep of the machine keeping him alive; he can feel them die, in his bones, in the skin that's frantically trying to heal and unable to replicate the cells, all the way down to his core that's been torn out and ripped apart. He's sees only orange, only red, feels only the heat at the side of his face reminding him that there is nothing to wake up for. His body breathes and his soul stops caring, and still, he hears them, sees them, reaches for their blackening fingers and finds nothing but scorching, scalding ash.
He is 34, and he's lost.