Fic: Gen When a Hero Dies R
When a Hero Dies
Indus
Disclaimer: Only lay claim to Sonja
Warning: Death of major character. Gen
Rating: R for a brief mention of extra-curricular activites
Spoilers: Mainly IMToD
Angst abound
She stumbles as she gets out of the car, but the money doesn't fall. Not after what she did to get it. Still, the jerk who just got a blow job in his shiny BMW can't get back to the wife and kids fast enough, so he pulls away from the curb before the door's completely shut and without asking if she's okay. She should be used to these guys, in her line of work, but still, the Kansas in her has her thinking jerk! as she watches his headlights disappear.
She wants to go home, she does. Her jaw's aching, her underwear is a little sticky despite using the bathroom in that motel the third guy took her to, and it's started raining. But she was sick last week, and she needs the money. Just one more, she thinks, and then all thoughts of her night fly from her mind.
She'd noticed the rags out of the corner of her eye before she was out of the car, but she'd dismissed it as another homeless man. She's been in a city long enough to do that. But then she notices the dark red blood, and her heart stops. She hasn't been a hooker long enough to see a dead man.
She runs to him and crouches down. There's too much blood, he has to be dead, but then he groans. Even through the mess that was once his face, she can see that he was handsome, and the greenish hazel eyes that blink up at her would have, at any other time, made her heart skip a beat. "Mister, are you all right?" She asks, unaware that she sounds like the sweet midwestern high-school cheerleader she was a few months ago. "Just hold on, I'll get someone."
He groans again, and though he's staring right at her, he doesn't seem to see her. "Sam? Sammy?" he asks, and though he has to be thirty he sounds like a child.
She's about to correct him when he gasps, and she sees blood bubbling at his lips. That can't be good. For some reason, despite the terror and horror, she's able to think clearly and she knows that even if he makes it, he won't remember much. So she smiles, hoping that Sam is a woman, and says, "Yes, it's me."
"Sam, are you all right?" he asks. "Kiddo, you okay?" The way he says it, she knows it's a boy, a younger brother or child, but that he thinks she's a guy in her red leather mini and her boobs inches from his face tells her a truth she doesn't want to hear.
She has to do something, so she pulls her phone out of her tiny gold purse. She presses 911 even though it's a Kansas area code and she won't get the right one, but it doesn't matter. It's dead. She curses, and trying not to hurt him, checks his pocket for a phone.
He has one, and its a good one, with the battery fully charged and a couple of missed calls. Not looking at who they're from, she remembers to put 617 before 911 then calls for help. Someone will come, they tell her, but she tells them she doesn't think he'll last very long. Someone will come, they reassure her.
"Sam," he says again, but its softer, so she puts her head closer. The blood and fluids and fragments of bone don't bother her now. It's enough that she's sharing this most personal moment with a perfect stranger. "Sam, I think it got me."
"What got you?" She asks, hoping something good can come out of this. She grew up on Diagnosis Murder, once upon a time, and the innocent witness to a murder was always a key player. But his answer just confuses her. She supposes it's the pain that has him convinced a ghost tried to kill him. Trying to ease his mind, because it's obvious the anger over his defeat is going to kill him faster than his wounds, she tells him everything is going to be fine.
He tries to laugh, and more blood bubbles out. "Sammy, that's bull. Even I know it's over. Dude, it was great though, so don't be stupid about it. Salt and burn my bones, then go back to your normal life. S'all I ever wanted for you, buddy."
Salt and what? She supposes its a private joke, so she assures him that she will. He's fading fast because before he could hear her, even if he thought she was a guy, but now he doesn't seem to. "I mean, Sam, it isn't as if we didn't know this day was coming. I've been a hunter for long enough, hell, about as long as Dad. And he had us to be careful for. I haven't had much."
"You've had me," she comments softly, and he answers her but she's sure he didn't hear. "I've got you, yeah, but you have Sarah and the future, and they'll take care of you. You let them, Sammy." He whispers something else, and it had to be funny because he goes out with a smirk on his face. She never knew him in life, but she's sure that Sam was no stranger to that expression. And oh God, because he's dead, and she's still holding his hand.
*
The pain is gone, and he can think again without something crushing over him. He opens his eyes, and a woman is holding his hand. She lets go with a cry and stands up to wave down the ambulance, and oh yeah he can see right up her skirt to the nothing she's wearing underneath. And that's when it hit him- he didn't feel her let go of his hand. In fact, he didn't feel his hand at all. It's then that he realizes he can stand, and does, and looks down at his body.
It's not the first time that he's done this, and the memory he thought he'd lost comes back with a vengeance, so when he sees the pretty brunette who is calmly staring at him from her perch on the bonnet of a parked car, he isn't surprised. "I'm dead," he says to her, and Tessa smiles and it's as if she's crying.
"Yes, Dean, you are." She jumps down and goes up to him. "The war's over; are you ready to come with me?"
He wants to say no. This'll hurt Sam, and it's been his mission in life not to hurt Sammy. Drive him crazy, make him mad, all that's fine, but he knows this will make his brother cry, and there's nothing Dean's wanted less. But the war is over, so he walks over to her. "I don't suppose you can tell me where I'm going this time," he says, with his trademark charm.
She smiles back, and they're flirting, which is all kinds of sick. "Actually, I've come to make you an offer. Join us."
"What?" he asks, sure she must be crazy. "I've spent my life fighting and killing things like you."
Now she looks hurt, and isn't that a kicker. "Dean, I'm not a thing. And I'm not a demon. I'm a reaper, and it's my job to accompany souls to where they're going to spend an eternity. There's nothing evil about what I do, but I can make it easier, and I like to think that's a good thing."
He swallows, knowing she's right. He's done a lot of brave things, but he can't imagine taking this walk alone. "Why me?" he asks. "Sam's the nice one."
She smiles, and he feels even more inadequate because she looks otherworldly like that, whereas he just looks like a jackass. But then she learns forward and brushes her hand over his cheek the way some women do, the way his mother did. "Dean," she says as if it's a caress, "you've lived your entire life caring for people at the expense of yourself. You were made for this."
And that's when his decision is made. Because through all the crap and loss, caring for Sam and Dad were all that made anything bearable, and there have to be worse ways to spend eternity. Besides, this way he can see his brother, and he can make sure he doesn't go to hell, because with all he's done and killed he's not totally sure he'd make it to heaven, if there is such a place. And the only thing hell has going for it is his father. So he smiles, and says, "Yes, but on"-
"Are you making a deal with a reaper? Dean Winchester!" Tessa laughs, but then gives a sharp nod. "Yes, you can stay here and watch."
He turns back, and feels Tessa come up behind him and hold his hand the way the young girl who's wet and cold and in tears, did when he died. He hears her identify herself to cop as Sonja, and can feel her terror. Hookers don't trust cops any more than hunters do, he mused, and wishes he could help. Because as terrifying as the journey after death would have been without Tessa, it's nothing to what dying would have been without this young girl that he had thought was his brother. And he's not so dead that he can't find that thought amusing.
It's the memory of Sam that has him sobering, and when the phone that is still in Sonja's hand rings, he knows who it is. Somehow, Tessa pulls him so that he's in two places at once and can see Sonja look at the phone and answer while he watches Sam hold his phone to his ear and tap his fingers impatiently.
As the ringing stops, and he hears the click that means someone has answered, Sam breaks into speech immediately. "Dude, I've been calling forever. Where have you been?"
And without hearing anything more, Dean knows Sam's about to tell him he proposed to Sarah, and she said yes. Last time they'd talked, he'd said he was planning on it, and within a few days the wedding ring his father had never taken off would be in his mailbox. And even though it's not very expensive or valuable, Dean knows the ring he wears will also be on his brother's finger on Sam's wedding day. The amulet... Dean hopes Sam knows it's for Sarah. Their father had given it to their mother once.
But Sam never gets to tell Dean. He's just about to repeat his question into the silence, to wonder if the connection is bad, when Sonja finds her voice. "Is this Sam?"
The younger Winchester tells himself it's a girl Dean picked up somewhere, but his voice quavers with fear as he replies, "Yes. Who is this? Where's Dean?"
"Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry," she says, and that's all he needs to hear. Sam doesn't know what else she says, but when the policeman takes the phone from Sonja he snaps back and asks who was there. If anyone saw anything. Nonplussed, the cop hands the phone back to Sonja and she gives Sam her number.
And Dean sees the future. Sam will come, and he'll be angry because anger is easier than grief. Then he'll talk to Sonja and find and kill the spirit, and he'll be left with nothing else to do. And because it's Sam, and he's walked away before, he'll go to Sarah and lean on her and survive. And so will Sonja, though her story is far uglier and sadder. He could look on, see the rest of their days, but he doesn't.
Because he'll be back to see how the story ends. For him, it's just beginning. And as Tessa pulls him away from his body and his blood and the garish blinking lights of the ambulance, he realizes life is just the first in a series of adventures, each more exciting than the last.
THE END
Indus
Disclaimer: Only lay claim to Sonja
Warning: Death of major character. Gen
Rating: R for a brief mention of extra-curricular activites
Spoilers: Mainly IMToD
Angst abound
She stumbles as she gets out of the car, but the money doesn't fall. Not after what she did to get it. Still, the jerk who just got a blow job in his shiny BMW can't get back to the wife and kids fast enough, so he pulls away from the curb before the door's completely shut and without asking if she's okay. She should be used to these guys, in her line of work, but still, the Kansas in her has her thinking jerk! as she watches his headlights disappear.
She wants to go home, she does. Her jaw's aching, her underwear is a little sticky despite using the bathroom in that motel the third guy took her to, and it's started raining. But she was sick last week, and she needs the money. Just one more, she thinks, and then all thoughts of her night fly from her mind.
She'd noticed the rags out of the corner of her eye before she was out of the car, but she'd dismissed it as another homeless man. She's been in a city long enough to do that. But then she notices the dark red blood, and her heart stops. She hasn't been a hooker long enough to see a dead man.
She runs to him and crouches down. There's too much blood, he has to be dead, but then he groans. Even through the mess that was once his face, she can see that he was handsome, and the greenish hazel eyes that blink up at her would have, at any other time, made her heart skip a beat. "Mister, are you all right?" She asks, unaware that she sounds like the sweet midwestern high-school cheerleader she was a few months ago. "Just hold on, I'll get someone."
He groans again, and though he's staring right at her, he doesn't seem to see her. "Sam? Sammy?" he asks, and though he has to be thirty he sounds like a child.
She's about to correct him when he gasps, and she sees blood bubbling at his lips. That can't be good. For some reason, despite the terror and horror, she's able to think clearly and she knows that even if he makes it, he won't remember much. So she smiles, hoping that Sam is a woman, and says, "Yes, it's me."
"Sam, are you all right?" he asks. "Kiddo, you okay?" The way he says it, she knows it's a boy, a younger brother or child, but that he thinks she's a guy in her red leather mini and her boobs inches from his face tells her a truth she doesn't want to hear.
She has to do something, so she pulls her phone out of her tiny gold purse. She presses 911 even though it's a Kansas area code and she won't get the right one, but it doesn't matter. It's dead. She curses, and trying not to hurt him, checks his pocket for a phone.
He has one, and its a good one, with the battery fully charged and a couple of missed calls. Not looking at who they're from, she remembers to put 617 before 911 then calls for help. Someone will come, they tell her, but she tells them she doesn't think he'll last very long. Someone will come, they reassure her.
"Sam," he says again, but its softer, so she puts her head closer. The blood and fluids and fragments of bone don't bother her now. It's enough that she's sharing this most personal moment with a perfect stranger. "Sam, I think it got me."
"What got you?" She asks, hoping something good can come out of this. She grew up on Diagnosis Murder, once upon a time, and the innocent witness to a murder was always a key player. But his answer just confuses her. She supposes it's the pain that has him convinced a ghost tried to kill him. Trying to ease his mind, because it's obvious the anger over his defeat is going to kill him faster than his wounds, she tells him everything is going to be fine.
He tries to laugh, and more blood bubbles out. "Sammy, that's bull. Even I know it's over. Dude, it was great though, so don't be stupid about it. Salt and burn my bones, then go back to your normal life. S'all I ever wanted for you, buddy."
Salt and what? She supposes its a private joke, so she assures him that she will. He's fading fast because before he could hear her, even if he thought she was a guy, but now he doesn't seem to. "I mean, Sam, it isn't as if we didn't know this day was coming. I've been a hunter for long enough, hell, about as long as Dad. And he had us to be careful for. I haven't had much."
"You've had me," she comments softly, and he answers her but she's sure he didn't hear. "I've got you, yeah, but you have Sarah and the future, and they'll take care of you. You let them, Sammy." He whispers something else, and it had to be funny because he goes out with a smirk on his face. She never knew him in life, but she's sure that Sam was no stranger to that expression. And oh God, because he's dead, and she's still holding his hand.
*
The pain is gone, and he can think again without something crushing over him. He opens his eyes, and a woman is holding his hand. She lets go with a cry and stands up to wave down the ambulance, and oh yeah he can see right up her skirt to the nothing she's wearing underneath. And that's when it hit him- he didn't feel her let go of his hand. In fact, he didn't feel his hand at all. It's then that he realizes he can stand, and does, and looks down at his body.
It's not the first time that he's done this, and the memory he thought he'd lost comes back with a vengeance, so when he sees the pretty brunette who is calmly staring at him from her perch on the bonnet of a parked car, he isn't surprised. "I'm dead," he says to her, and Tessa smiles and it's as if she's crying.
"Yes, Dean, you are." She jumps down and goes up to him. "The war's over; are you ready to come with me?"
He wants to say no. This'll hurt Sam, and it's been his mission in life not to hurt Sammy. Drive him crazy, make him mad, all that's fine, but he knows this will make his brother cry, and there's nothing Dean's wanted less. But the war is over, so he walks over to her. "I don't suppose you can tell me where I'm going this time," he says, with his trademark charm.
She smiles back, and they're flirting, which is all kinds of sick. "Actually, I've come to make you an offer. Join us."
"What?" he asks, sure she must be crazy. "I've spent my life fighting and killing things like you."
Now she looks hurt, and isn't that a kicker. "Dean, I'm not a thing. And I'm not a demon. I'm a reaper, and it's my job to accompany souls to where they're going to spend an eternity. There's nothing evil about what I do, but I can make it easier, and I like to think that's a good thing."
He swallows, knowing she's right. He's done a lot of brave things, but he can't imagine taking this walk alone. "Why me?" he asks. "Sam's the nice one."
She smiles, and he feels even more inadequate because she looks otherworldly like that, whereas he just looks like a jackass. But then she learns forward and brushes her hand over his cheek the way some women do, the way his mother did. "Dean," she says as if it's a caress, "you've lived your entire life caring for people at the expense of yourself. You were made for this."
And that's when his decision is made. Because through all the crap and loss, caring for Sam and Dad were all that made anything bearable, and there have to be worse ways to spend eternity. Besides, this way he can see his brother, and he can make sure he doesn't go to hell, because with all he's done and killed he's not totally sure he'd make it to heaven, if there is such a place. And the only thing hell has going for it is his father. So he smiles, and says, "Yes, but on"-
"Are you making a deal with a reaper? Dean Winchester!" Tessa laughs, but then gives a sharp nod. "Yes, you can stay here and watch."
He turns back, and feels Tessa come up behind him and hold his hand the way the young girl who's wet and cold and in tears, did when he died. He hears her identify herself to cop as Sonja, and can feel her terror. Hookers don't trust cops any more than hunters do, he mused, and wishes he could help. Because as terrifying as the journey after death would have been without Tessa, it's nothing to what dying would have been without this young girl that he had thought was his brother. And he's not so dead that he can't find that thought amusing.
It's the memory of Sam that has him sobering, and when the phone that is still in Sonja's hand rings, he knows who it is. Somehow, Tessa pulls him so that he's in two places at once and can see Sonja look at the phone and answer while he watches Sam hold his phone to his ear and tap his fingers impatiently.
As the ringing stops, and he hears the click that means someone has answered, Sam breaks into speech immediately. "Dude, I've been calling forever. Where have you been?"
And without hearing anything more, Dean knows Sam's about to tell him he proposed to Sarah, and she said yes. Last time they'd talked, he'd said he was planning on it, and within a few days the wedding ring his father had never taken off would be in his mailbox. And even though it's not very expensive or valuable, Dean knows the ring he wears will also be on his brother's finger on Sam's wedding day. The amulet... Dean hopes Sam knows it's for Sarah. Their father had given it to their mother once.
But Sam never gets to tell Dean. He's just about to repeat his question into the silence, to wonder if the connection is bad, when Sonja finds her voice. "Is this Sam?"
The younger Winchester tells himself it's a girl Dean picked up somewhere, but his voice quavers with fear as he replies, "Yes. Who is this? Where's Dean?"
"Oh God, Sam, I'm so sorry," she says, and that's all he needs to hear. Sam doesn't know what else she says, but when the policeman takes the phone from Sonja he snaps back and asks who was there. If anyone saw anything. Nonplussed, the cop hands the phone back to Sonja and she gives Sam her number.
And Dean sees the future. Sam will come, and he'll be angry because anger is easier than grief. Then he'll talk to Sonja and find and kill the spirit, and he'll be left with nothing else to do. And because it's Sam, and he's walked away before, he'll go to Sarah and lean on her and survive. And so will Sonja, though her story is far uglier and sadder. He could look on, see the rest of their days, but he doesn't.
Because he'll be back to see how the story ends. For him, it's just beginning. And as Tessa pulls him away from his body and his blood and the garish blinking lights of the ambulance, he realizes life is just the first in a series of adventures, each more exciting than the last.
THE END