[fic] When the Plague Was Big
When the Plague Was Big
for: The "tell me a story" prompt @ justprompts, applies to all verses.
in which: Ruby reflects on her memories of being human.
warnings: Ruby is a bitch.
starring: OC, Tammi, and Alastair all directed at no specific journal.
It wasn't a lie when I said I was human.
Of course, it was a long fucking time ago and Alastair does a good fucking job of carving all the humanity out of you, so it's only bits and pieces now. Feelings, mostly. But, it's still more than the others. I like to think it makes me better than them -- at least by a little. That's what makes me so good at what I do. I mean, what the hell kind of succubus would I be if I couldn't connect? That's what gives me that extra leg up.
Sure, sometimes it can be a liability, like when jackass demon hunters remind me of memories I'd rather bury to make this shit easier.
But, God, when he's acting all pathetic and determined, it really reminds me of her. I can see it in his eyes, in his voice, in those pensive, brooding shoulders that he'd do anything for that moron and it's sickening at the same time that it's kinda endearing. It's all really Brothers Grimm to me -- of course, I remember the real ones, so maybe I'm biased. When he bitches about me not understanding, he doesn't know how wrong he is. Feeling like he'd give up anything for his brother, feeling like he's pissed as Hell that his brother would give anything -- did give anything for him. Fucking idiot. He doesn't know what it's like to feel obligated to protect that person.
Just like Mirabel was. All young and full of hopes and dreams and crocodile tears.
And, before you ask, no. That doesn't mean I'm like Dean. Dean's a fucking moron who couldn't think of a better deal than just getting one year. He was a desperate dickhead. There are a lot better ways to bring someone back than selling your soul to the lowest fucking bidder.
But, I did it, too, once upon a time, so I guess that doesn't give me much room to talk. Her name was Tammi, and she told me she could save Mirabel. Or, at least teach me how. See, Mirabel was young when I did it. It took her a lot longer to figure it out than it took Sam, because she was just sick, not dying. The plague was a hell of a malady to get hit with in those days. The only thing I regret is waiting until her pretty blonde hair was falling out of her head to suck it up and give in to trying a witchier approach to helping cure her.
I guess when we were hiding from hellhounds ten years down the road, she didn't appreciate the thought as much as she might have, say, the next day. But, I'd gotten selfish since then, done a lot of things, experimented with the magic Tammi was giving me. I got in deep, like they always do. Nowadays it's bullshit -- people want to make sure they're president of the PT-fucking-A, they want their kids to win their soccer game, they want that promotion they didn't earn, but I guess the things I did weren't all that much better.
Anyway, it taught me a lot about how to fend off a hellhound. We lasted four hours, and she was reaming me the whole time, crying and telling me about how I don't understand what it's like to lose a sister and not be able to do anything. Bullshit, I don't. But, she didn't need to know I did it because of her. She cursed me until I stopped breathing. Probably long after.
Hopefully, she made it to a better afterlife than I did.
for: The "tell me a story" prompt @ justprompts, applies to all verses.
in which: Ruby reflects on her memories of being human.
warnings: Ruby is a bitch.
starring: OC, Tammi, and Alastair all directed at no specific journal.
It wasn't a lie when I said I was human.
Of course, it was a long fucking time ago and Alastair does a good fucking job of carving all the humanity out of you, so it's only bits and pieces now. Feelings, mostly. But, it's still more than the others. I like to think it makes me better than them -- at least by a little. That's what makes me so good at what I do. I mean, what the hell kind of succubus would I be if I couldn't connect? That's what gives me that extra leg up.
Sure, sometimes it can be a liability, like when jackass demon hunters remind me of memories I'd rather bury to make this shit easier.
But, God, when he's acting all pathetic and determined, it really reminds me of her. I can see it in his eyes, in his voice, in those pensive, brooding shoulders that he'd do anything for that moron and it's sickening at the same time that it's kinda endearing. It's all really Brothers Grimm to me -- of course, I remember the real ones, so maybe I'm biased. When he bitches about me not understanding, he doesn't know how wrong he is. Feeling like he'd give up anything for his brother, feeling like he's pissed as Hell that his brother would give anything -- did give anything for him. Fucking idiot. He doesn't know what it's like to feel obligated to protect that person.
Just like Mirabel was. All young and full of hopes and dreams and crocodile tears.
And, before you ask, no. That doesn't mean I'm like Dean. Dean's a fucking moron who couldn't think of a better deal than just getting one year. He was a desperate dickhead. There are a lot better ways to bring someone back than selling your soul to the lowest fucking bidder.
But, I did it, too, once upon a time, so I guess that doesn't give me much room to talk. Her name was Tammi, and she told me she could save Mirabel. Or, at least teach me how. See, Mirabel was young when I did it. It took her a lot longer to figure it out than it took Sam, because she was just sick, not dying. The plague was a hell of a malady to get hit with in those days. The only thing I regret is waiting until her pretty blonde hair was falling out of her head to suck it up and give in to trying a witchier approach to helping cure her.
I guess when we were hiding from hellhounds ten years down the road, she didn't appreciate the thought as much as she might have, say, the next day. But, I'd gotten selfish since then, done a lot of things, experimented with the magic Tammi was giving me. I got in deep, like they always do. Nowadays it's bullshit -- people want to make sure they're president of the PT-fucking-A, they want their kids to win their soccer game, they want that promotion they didn't earn, but I guess the things I did weren't all that much better.
Anyway, it taught me a lot about how to fend off a hellhound. We lasted four hours, and she was reaming me the whole time, crying and telling me about how I don't understand what it's like to lose a sister and not be able to do anything. Bullshit, I don't. But, she didn't need to know I did it because of her. She cursed me until I stopped breathing. Probably long after.
Hopefully, she made it to a better afterlife than I did.