Fic: No hero in her sky (Supernatural; PG-13 - Jess, assorted demons)
Title: No hero in her sky
Word count: 10x100
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Characters: Jess, Azazel, John, assorted other demons (including Meg!demon, Crossroads demon, and Lilith)
Spoilers: Through 4.03
Warnings: Jess in Hell?
Summary: A soul in Hell’s just meat in the frying pan, and it doesn’t take that long ‘til it’s done. Season 2 in Hell.
There are rumors spreading across the pit. The black ones keep chattering about it, gossiping while they do their work, but Jess has heard the red ones talking, too. “It’s John Winchester,” they’re saying.
“Azazel’s picked us a king and now he’s shown us a prize,” a black one cackles to Jess, then he frowns. “Oh, you’re still human in there.”
She gives him a withering look, as best she can with her face peeling off. It’ll grow back. Always does.
“Pity,” he crows. “This is gonna get good, good, good, and you ain’t gonna get to enjoy it, babydoll.”
--
Jess meets the big yellow one once-Azazel, they call him, the one with all the grand plans-while he’s back below to drum up support among his main constituents, the black ones, trying to convince them that the deal he’s got going topside will benefit them.
“It is the stuff of legends,” he says to the crowd assembled. Jess and some of the other still-human damned are at the fringes, enjoying a reprieve from their private tortures while their torturers listen raptly to his speech.
There’s a red one nearby who sneers to herself, “Really? A human to raise the banners?”
--
“Little Jessica!” he says to her after he’s done with his big performance, while he and his procession are filtering out and through the crowd. He turns to his cluster and says to them, “This one, she’s one who needs to watch.”
Jess gives him a horrified look, too stunned to talk.
“Make sure she gets a VIP seat,” he says, then he turns back to her and gives her a terrible smile, the worst she’s seen so far. “Of course I recognize you, Jessica, Jessica, lovely Jessica. Make sure you watch.”
He says, “Oh, Jessica, don’t look so scared.”
--
One of the humans-term used loosely, her timer’s about to blow, Jess can smell it-tells everyone who will listen that she’ll never follow Azazel’s chosen one. “I’ll never answer to a man again,” she says. “I sold my soul to get away from one despotic man and it was worth it.”
“You’ll be sorry you said that,” one of the black ones says cheerfully, twisting a spear deeper in the woman’s blistering flank.
Jess looks away, watches another black one playing catch with a hound.
“There’s always another choice,” the woman pants out. “Even if it’s worse after all.”
--
A red one asks her which way she’s going to go. “No fence sitting in Hell,” the red one says. “Pick your party and do it quick. We all got to do it, make the deals even with our own heads.”
Jess doesn’t want to follow hellfire politics. She turns her face away, even if it means nudging further into the fire.
“You’re just picking between evils, you know” the red one says, smirking and draping herself over a rock, a sleek cat in a sunspot. “It’s crazy with a plan or crazy with a grudge, which one you want?”
--
“Those lying sons of bitches!” someone’s screaming like a trapped dog, growing louder. Jess has been around long enough that she can recognize an exorcism in progress. The commotion ripples across the legion like a virus in a closed room.
“Oh, back so soon?” a red one says snidely. “Didn’t you just crawl out?”
She’s a high-ranked black one, a particularly nasty one with a particularly sharp tongue. “Bastards! They’ll pay in blood, special kid or not, ‘cause I’ve seen the inside of his head now.”
Her eyes flicker to Jess and she gives her Azazel’s same feral grin.
--
“You’re not bones and smoke yet, Jess. So new,” she says to Jess, running fingers down Jess’s arm. Jess doesn’t let herself jerk away, doesn’t even shirk eye contact.
A red one laughs, sitting with the little white one on a rock nearby, watching the exchange with clear, eager eyes.
“Come on already,” the red one says to Jess, smirking.
“I don’t think it’ll be long now,” the black one says calmly, watching Jess too closely.
The red one cocks her head. “Oh, I’m being summoned.” She turns to the white one and smiles. “I think you’ll be very happy.”
--
“She just snared another big, juicy Winchester fish,” the black one whispers to Jess. “So desperate to save his brother he’ll make deals with devils.”
Jess learns she’s called Ruby and she prefers possessing blondes. “Would’ve gone for you, too,” Ruby tells her.
They’ve turned up the heat underneath her and Jess finds that she has a low smoke point after all. It’s so hard to remember being human, so Jess stops forcing it. The fire doesn’t seem as hot after that.
“You’re my ticket back topside,” Ruby whispers in Jess’s ear, clinging tighter. “My little rocket to the moon.”
--
Jess’s first job is John, an angry, defiant man who seems so familiar, but she just can’t quite put her finger on why. “Couldn’t save the world, could you, John?” she taunts after taking a moment to peruse his file.
He stares at her, chin up, not saying a word even while he writhes in pain.
“And now? Now all your nightmares come true,” Jess singsongs. “Your Mary dealt with the dark to save you, you dealt to save Dean, and now your darling boy’s just made a deal of his own to save Sam. Didn’t think martyrdom was hereditary.”
--
Near the door where Jess is, she feels the lock tumblers turning before she hears them. Then there’s a rush of good air and she leaps for it, headed out with the rush.
But once she’s out, Jess lingers, watches it all go down. A man who smells like he’s damned shoots Azazel and the big yellow one flickers and dies, surprised stupid.
She brushes past something she thinks she recognizes, but it’s just Azazel’s chosen one, crouched on the ground.
She wonders about the white one, if this will be a fair fight or a massacre. Then she goes.
End.
Word count: 10x100
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen
Characters: Jess, Azazel, John, assorted other demons (including Meg!demon, Crossroads demon, and Lilith)
Spoilers: Through 4.03
Warnings: Jess in Hell?
Summary: A soul in Hell’s just meat in the frying pan, and it doesn’t take that long ‘til it’s done. Season 2 in Hell.
There are rumors spreading across the pit. The black ones keep chattering about it, gossiping while they do their work, but Jess has heard the red ones talking, too. “It’s John Winchester,” they’re saying.
“Azazel’s picked us a king and now he’s shown us a prize,” a black one cackles to Jess, then he frowns. “Oh, you’re still human in there.”
She gives him a withering look, as best she can with her face peeling off. It’ll grow back. Always does.
“Pity,” he crows. “This is gonna get good, good, good, and you ain’t gonna get to enjoy it, babydoll.”
--
Jess meets the big yellow one once-Azazel, they call him, the one with all the grand plans-while he’s back below to drum up support among his main constituents, the black ones, trying to convince them that the deal he’s got going topside will benefit them.
“It is the stuff of legends,” he says to the crowd assembled. Jess and some of the other still-human damned are at the fringes, enjoying a reprieve from their private tortures while their torturers listen raptly to his speech.
There’s a red one nearby who sneers to herself, “Really? A human to raise the banners?”
--
“Little Jessica!” he says to her after he’s done with his big performance, while he and his procession are filtering out and through the crowd. He turns to his cluster and says to them, “This one, she’s one who needs to watch.”
Jess gives him a horrified look, too stunned to talk.
“Make sure she gets a VIP seat,” he says, then he turns back to her and gives her a terrible smile, the worst she’s seen so far. “Of course I recognize you, Jessica, Jessica, lovely Jessica. Make sure you watch.”
He says, “Oh, Jessica, don’t look so scared.”
--
One of the humans-term used loosely, her timer’s about to blow, Jess can smell it-tells everyone who will listen that she’ll never follow Azazel’s chosen one. “I’ll never answer to a man again,” she says. “I sold my soul to get away from one despotic man and it was worth it.”
“You’ll be sorry you said that,” one of the black ones says cheerfully, twisting a spear deeper in the woman’s blistering flank.
Jess looks away, watches another black one playing catch with a hound.
“There’s always another choice,” the woman pants out. “Even if it’s worse after all.”
--
A red one asks her which way she’s going to go. “No fence sitting in Hell,” the red one says. “Pick your party and do it quick. We all got to do it, make the deals even with our own heads.”
Jess doesn’t want to follow hellfire politics. She turns her face away, even if it means nudging further into the fire.
“You’re just picking between evils, you know” the red one says, smirking and draping herself over a rock, a sleek cat in a sunspot. “It’s crazy with a plan or crazy with a grudge, which one you want?”
--
“Those lying sons of bitches!” someone’s screaming like a trapped dog, growing louder. Jess has been around long enough that she can recognize an exorcism in progress. The commotion ripples across the legion like a virus in a closed room.
“Oh, back so soon?” a red one says snidely. “Didn’t you just crawl out?”
She’s a high-ranked black one, a particularly nasty one with a particularly sharp tongue. “Bastards! They’ll pay in blood, special kid or not, ‘cause I’ve seen the inside of his head now.”
Her eyes flicker to Jess and she gives her Azazel’s same feral grin.
--
“You’re not bones and smoke yet, Jess. So new,” she says to Jess, running fingers down Jess’s arm. Jess doesn’t let herself jerk away, doesn’t even shirk eye contact.
A red one laughs, sitting with the little white one on a rock nearby, watching the exchange with clear, eager eyes.
“Come on already,” the red one says to Jess, smirking.
“I don’t think it’ll be long now,” the black one says calmly, watching Jess too closely.
The red one cocks her head. “Oh, I’m being summoned.” She turns to the white one and smiles. “I think you’ll be very happy.”
--
“She just snared another big, juicy Winchester fish,” the black one whispers to Jess. “So desperate to save his brother he’ll make deals with devils.”
Jess learns she’s called Ruby and she prefers possessing blondes. “Would’ve gone for you, too,” Ruby tells her.
They’ve turned up the heat underneath her and Jess finds that she has a low smoke point after all. It’s so hard to remember being human, so Jess stops forcing it. The fire doesn’t seem as hot after that.
“You’re my ticket back topside,” Ruby whispers in Jess’s ear, clinging tighter. “My little rocket to the moon.”
--
Jess’s first job is John, an angry, defiant man who seems so familiar, but she just can’t quite put her finger on why. “Couldn’t save the world, could you, John?” she taunts after taking a moment to peruse his file.
He stares at her, chin up, not saying a word even while he writhes in pain.
“And now? Now all your nightmares come true,” Jess singsongs. “Your Mary dealt with the dark to save you, you dealt to save Dean, and now your darling boy’s just made a deal of his own to save Sam. Didn’t think martyrdom was hereditary.”
--
Near the door where Jess is, she feels the lock tumblers turning before she hears them. Then there’s a rush of good air and she leaps for it, headed out with the rush.
But once she’s out, Jess lingers, watches it all go down. A man who smells like he’s damned shoots Azazel and the big yellow one flickers and dies, surprised stupid.
She brushes past something she thinks she recognizes, but it’s just Azazel’s chosen one, crouched on the ground.
She wonders about the white one, if this will be a fair fight or a massacre. Then she goes.
End.