Just For Kicks
Title: Just For Kicks
Author: paracaerouvoar
Rating: PG-13. Ish?
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: None
Summary: "Bela ran. Pointless. No ever escapes the 'hounds."
A/N: I'm of the one percent of Supernatural fans that actually liked Bela. So here. Have some fic. It's bad, but I'm posting it anyway.
The Hellhounds growled as they approached.
She cowered from them, fear finally showing in her tear filled eyes.
Lilith released them, and they leapt forward, snarling.
She did the only thing she could.
Bela ran.
Pointless.
No ever escapes the 'hounds.
--
This was it.
Bela was going to die.
Of course, she knew, she had for ten years; she just didn't expect those ten years to feel like ten seconds.
For ten years she had felt an irresistible pull downwards.
Towards hell.
For ten years she had fought the feeling of falling.
Because, at the end of the day, everyone falls.
And there's nothing anyone can do about it.
A white light.
Not what she was expecting.
She'd thought hellhounds would be more pain and red than peace and white, a feeling of feathers enveloping her.
She felt safer now that she had in the last ten years, hell, safer than she'd ever felt.
Feeling calm, and safe, and everything she should have felt as a child, Bela slept, for the first time in ten years, really slept, in the arms of her guardian angel.
--
Bela woke in her bed, blissful, last night forgotten.
She lay there, revelling in the peace, when she discovered something.
With a flood of emotion, she knew that hell no longer called to her.
She belonged to herself and herself alone again.
She rolled over in the bed, intending to look out of the window, somehow reassuring herself she was indeed on earth, although if hell could spring for a bed and a motel room, she thought they could fix it so the window showed what she wanted to see.
What she wasn't expecting to see was someone standing in her view, a man, silhouetted by the morning sun.
'Not to sound uncouth, but who the hell are you?' she asked, her voice sharp, not at all like the usual raspy voice she acquired after having just woken up.
He shrugged, not giving her a real answer. 'Who do you think I am?'
'An angel?' she joked, trying not to show how shaken she was, by this sudden turn of events.
She was still expecting some son of a bitch demon to rip the rug out from under her feet.
'Bingo!' he cried, turning to face her.
She stared into his sparkling hazel eyes, attempting to glean any scrap of untruth, but, to her utter surprise, he was being completely honest.
'You're joking,' she declared. 'An angel?'
He nodded. 'Fresh from the good side of the pearly gates.'
'Why?'
'Why what? Save you?'
It was her turn to nod.
'For kicks.'
'Kicks?' she asked, incredulous.
'Yup. Kicks, shits and giggles, a laugh. Pick one, any one.'
'I don't understand.' She climbed out of bed, still wearing the same outfit as she had been last night.
'What's to understand? You didn't deserve to go to hell, so you didn't. Simple as that.'
The angel, if indeed he was an angel, snapped his fingers.
Author: paracaerouvoar
Rating: PG-13. Ish?
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: None
Summary: "Bela ran. Pointless. No ever escapes the 'hounds."
A/N: I'm of the one percent of Supernatural fans that actually liked Bela. So here. Have some fic. It's bad, but I'm posting it anyway.
The Hellhounds growled as they approached.
She cowered from them, fear finally showing in her tear filled eyes.
Lilith released them, and they leapt forward, snarling.
She did the only thing she could.
Bela ran.
Pointless.
No ever escapes the 'hounds.
--
This was it.
Bela was going to die.
Of course, she knew, she had for ten years; she just didn't expect those ten years to feel like ten seconds.
For ten years she had felt an irresistible pull downwards.
Towards hell.
For ten years she had fought the feeling of falling.
Because, at the end of the day, everyone falls.
And there's nothing anyone can do about it.
A white light.
Not what she was expecting.
She'd thought hellhounds would be more pain and red than peace and white, a feeling of feathers enveloping her.
She felt safer now that she had in the last ten years, hell, safer than she'd ever felt.
Feeling calm, and safe, and everything she should have felt as a child, Bela slept, for the first time in ten years, really slept, in the arms of her guardian angel.
--
Bela woke in her bed, blissful, last night forgotten.
She lay there, revelling in the peace, when she discovered something.
With a flood of emotion, she knew that hell no longer called to her.
She belonged to herself and herself alone again.
She rolled over in the bed, intending to look out of the window, somehow reassuring herself she was indeed on earth, although if hell could spring for a bed and a motel room, she thought they could fix it so the window showed what she wanted to see.
What she wasn't expecting to see was someone standing in her view, a man, silhouetted by the morning sun.
'Not to sound uncouth, but who the hell are you?' she asked, her voice sharp, not at all like the usual raspy voice she acquired after having just woken up.
He shrugged, not giving her a real answer. 'Who do you think I am?'
'An angel?' she joked, trying not to show how shaken she was, by this sudden turn of events.
She was still expecting some son of a bitch demon to rip the rug out from under her feet.
'Bingo!' he cried, turning to face her.
She stared into his sparkling hazel eyes, attempting to glean any scrap of untruth, but, to her utter surprise, he was being completely honest.
'You're joking,' she declared. 'An angel?'
He nodded. 'Fresh from the good side of the pearly gates.'
'Why?'
'Why what? Save you?'
It was her turn to nod.
'For kicks.'
'Kicks?' she asked, incredulous.
'Yup. Kicks, shits and giggles, a laugh. Pick one, any one.'
'I don't understand.' She climbed out of bed, still wearing the same outfit as she had been last night.
'What's to understand? You didn't deserve to go to hell, so you didn't. Simple as that.'
The angel, if indeed he was an angel, snapped his fingers.