bad ending meme
Expanded meme
You've chosen your path and it's led you to one of the worst possible ends. A bad ending you've averted in the past could be coming true after all, a possibility you've always feared could be happening now. It's game over.
** TRIGGER WARNING. This meme contains references to death and addiction. Read at your own risk. **
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The funeral had been quiet and it took multiple attempts before Jackie Tyler let the man leave on his own. She didn't believe the lie he was selling, but eventually it got much too difficult to fight him on any of it. He was never very good at hiding his emotions these days. It was hard.
Her apartment was the only place he could return to. It was her home. He felt a little like an outsider, but it was nice. It reminded him of her. It was her in every way from the takeout containers right down to the basket of laundry by the couch.
He collapsed onto and easy chair and blew out a sigh. Crying? Wasn't even sure he could. He did rub the heels of his hands into his forehead.
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Nobody did.
She wanted to stop them from lowering her body into the ground- she still needed that, thank you very much, just as soon as she figured out how to get back into it. She'd sobbed against her mum, shoved Mickey, but she may as well have been the wind. For a second, she thought Tony might've seen her. She was probably just a bit nutters.
Finally, she gave up. This wasn't supposed to happen. Wasn't it supposed to be heaven? Or... possibly hell, admittedly, she wasn't sure which area she'd qualify for, but it was definitely somewhere other than where she was, right ( ... )
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He got up from the recliner and stalked out of the living room and into the kitchen. He was about to take a page of Dean Winchester's Guide to Living. Drinking could cure just about any problem. He dug around in her cabinets till he found a bottle of what he assumed to be Scotch. He took a small glass and filled it halfway. He scooped it up and knocked it back like Dean had taught him. Without his angel stamina it burned and made his jaw tighten.
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He was going for the Scotch. That wasn't good. That was the emergency Scotch... then again... She rounded the counters, watching. There was still a smudge of cookie dough they must've missed on one corner, the tree still lit up in the corner. Five days ago, they were taking a shower together, and now...
"Castiel," She murmured quietly, moving to wrap her hand around the bottle of scotch. It didn't move. She jerked harder. Nothing. With a frustrated cry, she moved to sweep it off the counter.
It nudged. Just a bit. Just a tiny little precarious, almost imperceptible nudge. The slightest tremor. Maybe she was going insane?
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He went to reach for the bottle a third time, but his hand stopped when it moved. It wobbled. He wasn't drunk yet and he wasn't so hysterical that he was confused by who moved a bottle. It was weird and it made the angel tilt his head. What was that?
He shook it off and reached for it again. He picked it up and poured him another.
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This was stupid. This was hopeless. She was going to have to spend eternity, walking around like a ghost, alone, with nobody. Nobody could see her. Nobody could help her. It wasn't fair. She should've had so much time, she should have had time with him, she was finally happy, and now he was alone-
The sudden rush of emotion came with another swipe, this time aimed at his glass, and it was far more effective than a nudge. It was sent flying, shattering against the wall into a hundred tiny pieces.
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There was a small part of him that wished he had taken her back to her Doctor. Maybe he could have protected her better. Maybe she'd be alive and Castiel could be happy on his own knowing she was still breathing. This was worse. She was dead and he was alone.
The impact of her hand with the glass is what made him jump. When it hit the wall that made him flinch. What was going on? He took a few steps away from the bottle and where the glass had been. He knew enough to know this was a little more undead than normal. "Who's there?"
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Just a shame it took a good three minutes to produce any sort of result at all, and it was questionably stable at best, but still, that couldn't dampen her spirits. She did an invisible little dance, and then stepped forward, waving her hand in front of his face. "Oi. Hey. You. You with the face. Hey, pretty."
She snapped her fingers. Nothing. Not a bloody thing. She reached out, tentatively, and poked him on the forehead.
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He reached a hand up and swatted into the air. He connected with nothing and stepped back wildly looking around the kitchen. Something had touched his forehead. It was starting to get really strange in here.
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Maybe if she could just... he could help her. Get his friend Dean. That's it. That's it. If that Dean bloke knew how to exorcise demons, he must be able to put her right, he absolutely had to know. Or at least make her visible. Tangible? Any of it would be good.
But first, she had to get his attention.
"Hey, hey listen. Shh- hey- listen- it's me- come on, I know you can feel that-" She poked him again, this time on the shoulder. "Just... use your nutters angel ears for a bit. Just a tiny little bit left, that's all I need, just a teensy bit of not-human, love, come on." She grabbed him by the hand.
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It came it a bit rusty. Everything before the poke was nothing. He didn't catch a bit. The poke and her calling his ears nutters was there. It was like listening to someone talk in the next room. Your ear was pressed to the wall, but it was still muffled and low.
Not-human. Yeah he caught that. His gaze shifted down to his hand and then around the kitchen. He didn't pull away. "Rose?" He didn't think she'd wind up like this. He thought for sure she would have crossed over.
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"Oh my god. Yes! That's me. I'm here! Look, see, still here!" She tugged back, poking him on the forehead. She had to take a second, press her hands to her eyes and swipe away a few tears of relief. Nothing scarier in the universe than thinking you'd have to spend an eternity like... like this. "Castiel- I need help- I'm not..."
Not dead? Clearly she was. Maybe.
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Again with the poking. He felt the poking. The poking was not his favorite move. It was effective, but he did not like it at all. He didn't quite hear everything, but he did catch the word help. She needed help from him. That meant she was trapped. Stuck. He knew what that meant. "Rose--Rose you can't stay here." He was being honest.
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"Well, it isn't as though I had much of a choice," She retorted, frowning a bit. "I just... woke up like this. I dunno what to do. You've gotta call your mate Dean, or something."
If he could even pick up half of what she was saying.
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The first sentence he didn't catch, but the second one he did. It was a big garbled, but he could make it out. "You don't want me to call Dean. I assure you Dean would not make this situation any easier, Rose. If you stay---it won't be good."
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