Fic: This Sucks
Title: This Sucks
Author: ladyoneill or, preferably, Lara
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel
Prompt: #23, Gabriel/Redemption
Spoilers: 5.19
Word count: approximately 575
Warnings: some language
Summary: Well, he's dead...maybe...This really sucks.
Notes: I want him BACK! Also, the (...) between sentences are kind of moments of silence.
Well, this sucks.
Here I go and do the supposed "right" thing and I end up...
Where am I?
...
Oh, perfect. The middle of absolutely fucking nowhere.
This is Hell, right? I mean, empty, white, formless space. Gotta be Hell.
My Hell, at least.
Empty, and, damn, my mojo's gone. No snapping up a delectable doll and a mound of chocolate.
Great, my last fuck ever is on a disk being drooled over by idiots and it wasn't my best performance since I was going to, y'know, probably die!
Definitely Hell.
Can I at least have a chair? An ottoman? A fucking floor?
...
This sucks. I think I mentioned that, but it's worth saying again. Or thinking. I don't seem to have a voice here, either. Great, no more snarking for me except in my own mind.
...
Actually, I'm not sure why I have a mind because...where the fuck is my body?
...
Oh, right. Lucy stabbed my sword through my chest and left me laying on the floor of a crappy motel.
I wonder if my wings made a pretty sight all turned to ash.
At least I couldn't crap myself.
So, back to the important bit. How come I have a mind?
...
Huh...Maybe this isn't Hell. It's not Heaven. Nothing is this dull, even in Heaven. Limbo maybe? A waiting room? The formless void before all creation?
And, shit, can I sound more pretentious even in my own skull?
...
Right, don't have a skull.
Y'know, back to the original of my original thoughts. I was trying to do good. I was choosing a side. Me! I never do that shit. Hell, I've done tons of bad shit to people over the millennia. Just for once I was trying to do something good.
And, y'know, I really thought I could do it. It was killing me, just the thought, but Lucy turned out to be an obnoxious turd, so I was feeling less bad about it, thinking maybe, just maybe it would work and I'd...
Well, not redeem myself preciously because I don't think I've done anything that requires redemption.
...
Yeah, even I couldn't think that one with a straight non-face.
Okay, I've been a bad god slash angel. Trickster here, what do you expect? Hiding from my annoying family here, also see the expecting thing.
And, anyway, I'm not sure angels get redemption anyway. We do good or we do bad. It's like free will. We don't get it.
...
Okay, I don't really believe that one, either. I mean, was it Dad's plan that I skip out on Heaven after telling Mary the good news, seduce a Norse god to give me his body to play with, and start screwing, drinking and snorting everything I could find? What would be Heaven's purpose in that?
So I can reach that point where I say, okay, I'll stand up for humans, and promptly get killed to death by my asshole brother?
...
All this introspection is making me cranky. Redemption, free will, whatever. I'm going to go nuts in here.
So, it's Hell after all.
And, apparently, I'm now thinking in Enochian.
...
Wait, why would I do that?
...
Is that spot over there suddenly a spot?
...
Huh.
...
The Enochian murmur seems to be coming from that direction. Maybe I'll send my big brain drifting over there towards it.
Hey, is someone praying to bring me back?
...
Oh, very cute. The spot is a tv screen. And that voice is familiar. Paying me back, Sammy?
I'm going to throw my non-corporeal mind thingie into that tv and I better find my body on the other side.
If so, maybe I'll try that redemption thing again.
...
If not, I'm going to give you such a headache...
End
Author: ladyoneill or, preferably, Lara
Rating: PG13
Characters/Pairings: Gabriel
Prompt: #23, Gabriel/Redemption
Spoilers: 5.19
Word count: approximately 575
Warnings: some language
Summary: Well, he's dead...maybe...This really sucks.
Notes: I want him BACK! Also, the (...) between sentences are kind of moments of silence.
Well, this sucks.
Here I go and do the supposed "right" thing and I end up...
Where am I?
...
Oh, perfect. The middle of absolutely fucking nowhere.
This is Hell, right? I mean, empty, white, formless space. Gotta be Hell.
My Hell, at least.
Empty, and, damn, my mojo's gone. No snapping up a delectable doll and a mound of chocolate.
Great, my last fuck ever is on a disk being drooled over by idiots and it wasn't my best performance since I was going to, y'know, probably die!
Definitely Hell.
Can I at least have a chair? An ottoman? A fucking floor?
...
This sucks. I think I mentioned that, but it's worth saying again. Or thinking. I don't seem to have a voice here, either. Great, no more snarking for me except in my own mind.
...
Actually, I'm not sure why I have a mind because...where the fuck is my body?
...
Oh, right. Lucy stabbed my sword through my chest and left me laying on the floor of a crappy motel.
I wonder if my wings made a pretty sight all turned to ash.
At least I couldn't crap myself.
So, back to the important bit. How come I have a mind?
...
Huh...Maybe this isn't Hell. It's not Heaven. Nothing is this dull, even in Heaven. Limbo maybe? A waiting room? The formless void before all creation?
And, shit, can I sound more pretentious even in my own skull?
...
Right, don't have a skull.
Y'know, back to the original of my original thoughts. I was trying to do good. I was choosing a side. Me! I never do that shit. Hell, I've done tons of bad shit to people over the millennia. Just for once I was trying to do something good.
And, y'know, I really thought I could do it. It was killing me, just the thought, but Lucy turned out to be an obnoxious turd, so I was feeling less bad about it, thinking maybe, just maybe it would work and I'd...
Well, not redeem myself preciously because I don't think I've done anything that requires redemption.
...
Yeah, even I couldn't think that one with a straight non-face.
Okay, I've been a bad god slash angel. Trickster here, what do you expect? Hiding from my annoying family here, also see the expecting thing.
And, anyway, I'm not sure angels get redemption anyway. We do good or we do bad. It's like free will. We don't get it.
...
Okay, I don't really believe that one, either. I mean, was it Dad's plan that I skip out on Heaven after telling Mary the good news, seduce a Norse god to give me his body to play with, and start screwing, drinking and snorting everything I could find? What would be Heaven's purpose in that?
So I can reach that point where I say, okay, I'll stand up for humans, and promptly get killed to death by my asshole brother?
...
All this introspection is making me cranky. Redemption, free will, whatever. I'm going to go nuts in here.
So, it's Hell after all.
And, apparently, I'm now thinking in Enochian.
...
Wait, why would I do that?
...
Is that spot over there suddenly a spot?
...
Huh.
...
The Enochian murmur seems to be coming from that direction. Maybe I'll send my big brain drifting over there towards it.
Hey, is someone praying to bring me back?
...
Oh, very cute. The spot is a tv screen. And that voice is familiar. Paying me back, Sammy?
I'm going to throw my non-corporeal mind thingie into that tv and I better find my body on the other side.
If so, maybe I'll try that redemption thing again.
...
If not, I'm going to give you such a headache...
End