[JMM] Eleventh Hour
[Set in whenitsadream. Dean = jstliketherifle, Sam = imnot_likeyou.]
At first there was nothing.
Nothing but blackness and emptiness, which under any normal circumstances would be slightly disconcerting, but compared to what she’d been through in the past one hundred eighty years, it was a welcome respite to have nothing. No torture, no pain, nothing. Just calmness and blackness, and cold. Dean couldn’t touch her here, and neither could Alastair. She was safe.
It was the cold that startled her out of it. Even if she was actually allowed to slip into unconsciousness, it wouldn’t have been cold. She would have still felt the heat of Hell on her skin, and it was after that that she realized she was breathing. It was an odd sensation, feeling your chest rise and fall after so many years without it. Her hand started to wander up to rest over her heart, feeling her heartbeat and that subtle rise and fall, under the coarse material of what felt like a sheet, and that was when her eyes flew open, wondering exactly where the hell she was.
Instead, all she met was darkness. Her hands slowly moved out to the sides, brushing over the cool steel walls surrounding her, and it took her a second to figure out where she was. What was happening. She wasn’t even sure how this was even possible but it was, and she was here, and she was suffocating. She needed to get out-now.
Her hands moved back over her head, balling into fists before starting to pound frantically at what she assumed was the door behind her. She started to try and talk, but her voice didn’t work at first, all that time of disuse, it was rusty. But eventually the vocal chords started to move together again, producing some kind of sound.
“Help! Someone, please!”
It took a few minutes, but suddenly there was a bright light flooding the area around her. She winced at the light, her arm coming up to cover her face as the tray below her started to move, and there were hands helping her off.
“Holy shit! She’s supposed to be-”
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed as the hands tried to help her off the platform. She did her best to try and wrap a sheet around her more, to cover her body as best she could and get herself off. She pulled away from the two men, curling into herself and taking a deep breath as she tried to calm herself down. Someone moved a chair behind her and she sat down, trying her best to relax and not panic quite so much. “The date. What’s today’s date?”
“February tenth.” There was a bit of a pause before he amended. “2010. It’s 2010.”
Only two years? She looked up at them with wide eyes, pure confusion on her face. “That can’t be possible-”
“Ma’am-we’re so sorry. We don’t know how you would up in there-”
“Bela?”
Someone actually referring to her by name got her attention, and her head snapped in the direction of the voice. Her eyes widened. “Sam. What-I don’t understand-”
Sam held up his hand. “Dean and I’ll explain later. Let’s just get you out of here.” He turned back to the two men staring at her in confusion. “Do any of you have something for her to wear?”
The people surrounding them looked absolutely flustered. “ Sir, you can’t just take her-”
“Federal Marshall,” There was the soft swish of leather, and she could tell that Sam was flashing one of their numerous fake badges at the men. “I can take her wherever I want. Now-about those clothes?”
A half-hour later, they were heading out to where the Impala was parked with Dean inside, Bela tucked protectively under his arm. It was odd, really, that he was being this gentle with her, and she wasn’t sure how the boys knew where she was or what had happened, but she was glad they were. When she saw Dean, however, that didn’t stop the large bolt of fear that shot through her. She felt Sam tense when she did, and she shook it off. She knew that Dean was human now, and more to the point, on her side, but there were still memories that said otherwise. Feelings that said otherwise. It was something she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with.
She let Sam put her in the back seat, watched as he slid in to the passenger’s side, and she looked between the two of them, still trying to sort this out. There was a long silence for a moment, before she took a breath and decided to break the silence. “How did you know?” Which was a friendlier way of asking what the hell they were doing here.
“Because I did it,” Dean said steely. “I had some room to barter and I used it. Look, it’s a really fucking long story, that I’m not sure you want to hear, but the long and short of it is that the angels need me for something, something that they can’t do without me, and I said I’d cover it if they did a few things for me first. Getting you out was one of them.”
She would ask him why, but she already knew. He was making amends, in some odd, cosmically shifting way. She still wasn’t clear on the entirety of that why, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She just nodded, leaning back into the leather of the seat and trying to process this. She was alive. Where would she go?
Sam watched her quietly for a moment, before shifting so that he could face her more. “Is there a friend we can take you to? Someone you could stay with?”
Bela looked to the side, trying to think of somewhere, anywhere, she could go. She didn’t have many people in her life to begin with, and she knew she’d have even less now that she had been dead for eighteen months. She drew in a shaky breath as only one name was coming to mind, and she could only hope that he wouldn’t shoot her on sight.
“Miami. There’s someone in Miami.”
“Fantastic,” Dean sighed, leaning back against the seat as he started the car. “Miami it is.”
She closed her eyes as the car started to move, still trying to wrap around the whole thing and hoping that she hadn’t been gone too long to make things better-or that before long the other shoe wasn’t going to drop.
1102 words
At first there was nothing.
Nothing but blackness and emptiness, which under any normal circumstances would be slightly disconcerting, but compared to what she’d been through in the past one hundred eighty years, it was a welcome respite to have nothing. No torture, no pain, nothing. Just calmness and blackness, and cold. Dean couldn’t touch her here, and neither could Alastair. She was safe.
It was the cold that startled her out of it. Even if she was actually allowed to slip into unconsciousness, it wouldn’t have been cold. She would have still felt the heat of Hell on her skin, and it was after that that she realized she was breathing. It was an odd sensation, feeling your chest rise and fall after so many years without it. Her hand started to wander up to rest over her heart, feeling her heartbeat and that subtle rise and fall, under the coarse material of what felt like a sheet, and that was when her eyes flew open, wondering exactly where the hell she was.
Instead, all she met was darkness. Her hands slowly moved out to the sides, brushing over the cool steel walls surrounding her, and it took her a second to figure out where she was. What was happening. She wasn’t even sure how this was even possible but it was, and she was here, and she was suffocating. She needed to get out-now.
Her hands moved back over her head, balling into fists before starting to pound frantically at what she assumed was the door behind her. She started to try and talk, but her voice didn’t work at first, all that time of disuse, it was rusty. But eventually the vocal chords started to move together again, producing some kind of sound.
“Help! Someone, please!”
It took a few minutes, but suddenly there was a bright light flooding the area around her. She winced at the light, her arm coming up to cover her face as the tray below her started to move, and there were hands helping her off.
“Holy shit! She’s supposed to be-”
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed as the hands tried to help her off the platform. She did her best to try and wrap a sheet around her more, to cover her body as best she could and get herself off. She pulled away from the two men, curling into herself and taking a deep breath as she tried to calm herself down. Someone moved a chair behind her and she sat down, trying her best to relax and not panic quite so much. “The date. What’s today’s date?”
“February tenth.” There was a bit of a pause before he amended. “2010. It’s 2010.”
Only two years? She looked up at them with wide eyes, pure confusion on her face. “That can’t be possible-”
“Ma’am-we’re so sorry. We don’t know how you would up in there-”
“Bela?”
Someone actually referring to her by name got her attention, and her head snapped in the direction of the voice. Her eyes widened. “Sam. What-I don’t understand-”
Sam held up his hand. “Dean and I’ll explain later. Let’s just get you out of here.” He turned back to the two men staring at her in confusion. “Do any of you have something for her to wear?”
The people surrounding them looked absolutely flustered. “ Sir, you can’t just take her-”
“Federal Marshall,” There was the soft swish of leather, and she could tell that Sam was flashing one of their numerous fake badges at the men. “I can take her wherever I want. Now-about those clothes?”
A half-hour later, they were heading out to where the Impala was parked with Dean inside, Bela tucked protectively under his arm. It was odd, really, that he was being this gentle with her, and she wasn’t sure how the boys knew where she was or what had happened, but she was glad they were. When she saw Dean, however, that didn’t stop the large bolt of fear that shot through her. She felt Sam tense when she did, and she shook it off. She knew that Dean was human now, and more to the point, on her side, but there were still memories that said otherwise. Feelings that said otherwise. It was something she wasn’t entirely sure what to do with.
She let Sam put her in the back seat, watched as he slid in to the passenger’s side, and she looked between the two of them, still trying to sort this out. There was a long silence for a moment, before she took a breath and decided to break the silence. “How did you know?” Which was a friendlier way of asking what the hell they were doing here.
“Because I did it,” Dean said steely. “I had some room to barter and I used it. Look, it’s a really fucking long story, that I’m not sure you want to hear, but the long and short of it is that the angels need me for something, something that they can’t do without me, and I said I’d cover it if they did a few things for me first. Getting you out was one of them.”
She would ask him why, but she already knew. He was making amends, in some odd, cosmically shifting way. She still wasn’t clear on the entirety of that why, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She just nodded, leaning back into the leather of the seat and trying to process this. She was alive. Where would she go?
Sam watched her quietly for a moment, before shifting so that he could face her more. “Is there a friend we can take you to? Someone you could stay with?”
Bela looked to the side, trying to think of somewhere, anywhere, she could go. She didn’t have many people in her life to begin with, and she knew she’d have even less now that she had been dead for eighteen months. She drew in a shaky breath as only one name was coming to mind, and she could only hope that he wouldn’t shoot her on sight.
“Miami. There’s someone in Miami.”
“Fantastic,” Dean sighed, leaning back against the seat as he started the car. “Miami it is.”
She closed her eyes as the car started to move, still trying to wrap around the whole thing and hoping that she hadn’t been gone too long to make things better-or that before long the other shoe wasn’t going to drop.
1102 words