Fanfic. May death strengthen my resolve (SPN, PG)
May Death Strengthen My Resolve (PG, Supernatural, Jo Harvelle & Castiel. All characters, objects and locations belong to their respective creators. After her death, Jo finds comfort in her resolve.)
May Death Strengthen My Resolve
It’s not how she pictured it.
She’d always known she’d get to Heaven someday. Someday turned out sooner rather than later, but she’d gotten there.
She’d been stitched back together; piece by piece.
Every moment, every broken memory, every love and passion and hope.
Every dream and desire and desperate attempt to avenge her father.
Every wish to save some small part of the world.
Now she sat here, waiting.
No pearly-white Gates stood before her.
It was a lake; beautiful and peaceful and for the first time in her life she felt truly safe.
She sat at the water’s edge, watching the ripples fade into the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, to no one but herself.
“Yes, it is.”
The voice is beside, the presence of someone else - something else - that wasn’t there a moment ago, but is suddenly present.
She recognises him immediately.
“Castiel.”
He turns toward her and for the first time she sees something of a smile on his face. “Hello, Jo.”
Her heart skips a beat. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should you.” There’s a sadness I his voice that breaks her heart.
She looked down. “I made my choices. And I don’t regret any of them.” Eternity passes in a single second. “Just tell me they’re ok.”
She doesn’t need to explain.
Castiel turns back, watching the horizon. “For now.”
She smiles. “That’s all I can ask for.”
“You died to save them.”
“I was going to die anyway.” The pain and terror of her last few hours are nothing more than a memory now, lost along with her life on Earth. Now she felt calm. “Am I supposed to feel like this?”
He sighs. “People change here. What was important in life is not so important in death.”
Jo drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I don’t want to forget what I fought for.” The stubbornness in her voice is trite, but genuine.
His hand is warm on her shoulder; a warmth that feeds her body strength and resolve.
She shivers despite herself.
He kisses her forehead, and she feels his resolve; his promise to her.
His breath is warm against her cheek, as he whispers in her ear.
“Then don’t forget.”
The warmth lingers long after he’s gone.
May Death Strengthen My Resolve
It’s not how she pictured it.
She’d always known she’d get to Heaven someday. Someday turned out sooner rather than later, but she’d gotten there.
She’d been stitched back together; piece by piece.
Every moment, every broken memory, every love and passion and hope.
Every dream and desire and desperate attempt to avenge her father.
Every wish to save some small part of the world.
Now she sat here, waiting.
No pearly-white Gates stood before her.
It was a lake; beautiful and peaceful and for the first time in her life she felt truly safe.
She sat at the water’s edge, watching the ripples fade into the distance.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, to no one but herself.
“Yes, it is.”
The voice is beside, the presence of someone else - something else - that wasn’t there a moment ago, but is suddenly present.
She recognises him immediately.
“Castiel.”
He turns toward her and for the first time she sees something of a smile on his face. “Hello, Jo.”
Her heart skips a beat. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Neither should you.” There’s a sadness I his voice that breaks her heart.
She looked down. “I made my choices. And I don’t regret any of them.” Eternity passes in a single second. “Just tell me they’re ok.”
She doesn’t need to explain.
Castiel turns back, watching the horizon. “For now.”
She smiles. “That’s all I can ask for.”
“You died to save them.”
“I was going to die anyway.” The pain and terror of her last few hours are nothing more than a memory now, lost along with her life on Earth. Now she felt calm. “Am I supposed to feel like this?”
He sighs. “People change here. What was important in life is not so important in death.”
Jo drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “I don’t want to forget what I fought for.” The stubbornness in her voice is trite, but genuine.
His hand is warm on her shoulder; a warmth that feeds her body strength and resolve.
She shivers despite herself.
He kisses her forehead, and she feels his resolve; his promise to her.
His breath is warm against her cheek, as he whispers in her ear.
“Then don’t forget.”
The warmth lingers long after he’s gone.