comment fic meme!
Following the results of the poll we took last month (don't make it easy on us or anything, guys, haha!), we've decided to hold a comment fic meme once every three months. This gives everyone time to write and prompt to their heart's content, and allows us mods to keep up with y'all. And we're starting right now!
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Another Point of View
I've been watching Sam Winchester off and on for his entire life. He was doomed from the moment his mother made that deal -- doomed for something, anyway -- and I can smell that kind of thing.
For much of his life it hasn't been safe to watch very closely. I can usually duck demons, but Sam went up against some very powerful demons, and angels? No. Just, no. Even if I were willing to take the risk, we have a policy about angelic entanglements. (So however much we wanted to, we couldn't tell their prophet he was a hack writer and we were giving his material to someone who would do it justice.)
Also, while Sam and his entire family are tragic as all get-out, they are epically tragic, and epic in general. This means my sister likes to watch them, too, and she doesn't put up with competition, so I was completely crowded out after Dean came back from Hell, apart from the period just after the devil got out when Sam was being very sad in a ( ... )
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"Wait," Sam said. His voice was still hoarse. The previous day he'd been screaming at Hell for hours. "She's real? I thought she was like the other girl."
"No, Sammy, this one's real -- really here. A real girl would be stretching it."
My sister coughed. "The other girl is really here, too, although I will note she would have known to clear out if she ever checked her messages."
"What?" said Sam.
"What?!" said Dean ( ... )
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Wondered if anyone would catch that! Thanks for commenting. More is coming.
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"Yes," Urania confirmed. She shot me a look I couldn't quite read, but which was probably some variant on 'See, they get it, why can't you?' I ignored her. "Among other spheres... this one represents Hell." She tapped one of the smaller spheres, and it turned reddish. "As you can see, the orbit is irregular, leading to Hell and Earth moving closer together and then apart again. The eccentricity isn't supposed to be this extreme, but I'm told after Purgatory emptied, it -- Purgatory, not Hell -- sort of deflated, lost its orbit, and is over here hung up on Yggdrasil, and both Hell and Heaven shifted ( ... )
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"Mostly it's more senile former Mafia dons," I said, not sure if that helped. "Uh, the staff really like you -- some of them do, anyway -- because they say that even if you're all dangerously insane, at least they can be sure you're here because someone thought it was the best way to keep you safe--"
"Shut up," Dean snarled, even though I was sort of complimenting him. "Sam, it's all right, we didn't know and you didn't choose here anyway. If you're not really hallucinating we can go back to Bobby's -- or somewhere else--"
"Does it matter if I'm not technically hallucinating? I'm still reacting to things that aren't here here ( ... )
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"From whom?"
"I'd rather not say. Some very complex harmonics, to amplify sound from one plane of reality and dampen all other sound. It was made for a poet who had a serious thing about fairies--"
As she spoke, Urania had been winding the music box (and avoiding my eyes). She let it play. There was a dull, tinny sort of tune, but also a deeper, outside-human-hearing thrum, and then--
"--what a clever little muse, digging that up."
--we could all hear the leprechaun. Urania demonstrated, by talking and clapping, that it was hard to hear anything but the leprechaun, and there was some confused gesticulation, mostly between Urania and Dean; Sam looked like he was appreciating not hearing some of the other planes he'd probably been eavesdropping on.
"But where did you get it, hmm? Last I heard, after the gentleman died it found its way back to--"Urania stuffed the music box back into her bag, closed the bag, dumped it on the bed, and sat on it, cutting off the ( ... )
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Still enjoying this, and looking forward to the conclusion!
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"That's it?" Dean said.
Sam grimaced. "Dean, I just want to get out of here--"
"Yes, that's it, unless you'd rather give the glasses back." Urania was trying to un-crumple her bag. "You have an explanation, a partial solution, and you can have more of a solution in a while, assuming you call your friend to release Polyhymnia and allow us to leave unhindered."
"Didn't your sister promise Sam a family history?"
Urania shot me a Look. "Yes, I suppose she did. Maybe she can try to handle that while you deal with checking him out and, first, call Mr. Singer." As she spoke, Urania was pulling a phone from her bag. "I'm calling Euterpe ( ... )
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Urania had used up her bossing-me-around allowance for the next decade, but I followed anyway, behind Urania and the Winchesters and a flustered hospital administrator wondering why they were leaving so abruptly. The Winchesters departed in the Impala, the administrator went back inside, still flustered, and Urania and I stood in the shrubbery.
"Everything go okay?" asked Thalia, who'd been waiting outside. "Mel, I tried to tell you before they got here--"
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm fine." I leaned against her. "I lost my best tragic people."
"They let Polly go," Urania said, sounding tired. "Now I need to go see about another music box. Warn Calliope the Dvergar may want a really long song in payment, all right? And I may need Euterpe for the harmonics..." She blurred away.
"Talking to Calliope. Just want I want to do," I mumbled into Thalia's shoulder.
"I can call her," Thalia said. "Then I think there's an opera box with our name on it."
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Aaaand that's it. Thanks for hanging in there
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