tigriswolf (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tigriswolf) wrote2007-01-28 08:30 pm
tigriswolf) wrote2007-01-28 08:30 pm
Upon The Road To Heaven - SN fic - PG13
Title: Upon The Road To Heaven
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: Only Missouri, Mary, John, Dean, Sam, and The Demon don't belong to me. Just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for everything and I suppose AU.
Pairings: none, really
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 1235
Point of view: third
My momma, he’d said, she could look at ya and know ya secrets. And my sister—when she was angry, the walls trembled.
And what about you? Rebecca asked. What’s your gift?
He looked at her, measured her with his gaze. With a small quirk of his lips, he answered, Only the girls.
Trina, the eldest of their children, wasn’t born fully whole. She’d never grow up, not in her head.
Nicole, the second daughter, could sing the angels out of Heaven.
Becky, the second-to-youngest child, sometimes just knew things without knowing why.
But then Missouri… Missouri.
Heaven shakes, Becky whispered with her little two-year-old voice when Nathan showed her the baby. Daddy, Heaven shakes.
-
Michael, the secondborn and only boy, died not too long after his tenth birthday.
Nathan died a few months after, then Trina.
Becky cried every night and Nicole ran away.
Rebecca looked at her remaining children and prayed.
Nathan, ya fool. Ya were lying. So don’t ya dare be telling me this now.
-
Missouri was barely eleven when she crouched beside Becky’s bed and whispered, Tell me everythin’ will be okay.
Becky was thirteen when she whispered back, I wish ta God I could.
-
Nathan didn’t tell her everything, but he damned sure told her enough.
It peaks on the eighteenth birthday, and from there it’s all downhill.
Becky’s eighteenth birthday came and went, leaving her in a coma. Missouri spent every waking moment by her side—didn’t leave for food or water, didn’t go to school.
Rebecca watched and waited, sobbing all the while, and when Becky’s eyes opened a month later, she only knew what she was born knowing, not people’s thoughts, not what was to come.
Rebecca sighed with relief and Missouri cried all over Becky’s hospital gown.
-
-
Rebecca died in a car accident and Becky almost died in a plane crash. Nicole showed up for a single day, simply to say sorry, and then she vanished again.
-
Missouri was twenty-seven when she left the place she’d lived her whole life, the place most of her family died in. She traveled north, then west, knowing she’d know when she got there.
Walking down the main street of Lawrence, Kansas, she saw the woman and little boy, her hair golden and his eyes the largest hazel she’d ever seen.
Yes, her soul whispered. No, her heart replied.
Missouri bought the shop later that day and settled in for a long stay.
-
In her mind, through the folds of time, she heard her big sister at two years old whisper, Heaven shakes. Daddy, Heaven shakes.
My sons? he asked, clinging tightly to what remained of his sanity. Of the man Mary wed in Spring.
More is out there than you’ve ever fathomed, John. And It wants them.
She sent him away with the beginnings of a plan, gave him names and addresses, helped him as much as she could. She watched him drive away in that sleek black car, two babies in the back seat, hatred burning bright in his soul.
Becky called and asked, What have you done?
Missouri stared at the stars through the window and answered, Heaven only shakes if it was meant to.
-
Lesser things could find them, though. And Sam was a beacon that lit up the world.
-
Dean grew, and Sam grew, and Missouri shivered the night Sam left for Stanford. She wrapped the quilt around her and heard the wolves howl, felt the icy breeze blowing, smelled fire and blood. On her tongue, she tasted recrimination and regret.
In her memory, her eyelids squeezed shut tight against reality and what had to be, she saw hazel and emerald eyes, and heard It laughing.
-
She greeted Sam like someone beloved, leaving Dean in the cold. She couldn’t give either of them what they needed, but she could give Sam a little, something he’d accept.
Dean would take nothing from her, too wrapped up in his pain and fury, his apprehension at being in Lawrence, his walls too high and too thick.
Missouri doted on Sam, shivering on the inside, and laughed at Dean, trying to take his thoughts away from the dark pit in his soul.
She gleaned little from their thoughts, nothing more than the surface; Missouri wasn’t timid and never had been, but digging too deep into their minds terrified her more even than the Evil she knew had walked their house.
Evil was stalking them again, had chased them from California, ghosted half a step behind them.
Heaven shakes, Daddy, Missouri whispered, longing to call Becky, but Becky was dead for five years now.
In her memory, she heard Nicole singing, her voice rising to the sky, lighting the world around her.
She only did what she had to do, what she was born to do, but she knew with bone-deep certainty that any victory would be hollow.
Evil walked your house.
Evil stole her from you.
Evil is after your sons.
And that final bit of information she kept from John, that one thing she couldn’t tell him, that thing she knows he saw in the cabin the night the demon branded Dean with Its bastardizing mark—she sobbed when she felt John tell Dean.
Evil is your sons.
-
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: Only Missouri, Mary, John, Dean, Sam, and The Demon don't belong to me. Just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for everything and I suppose AU.
Pairings: none, really
Rating: PG13
Wordcount: 1235
Point of view: third
I pity you, the demon whispers, because you don’t know.
-
-
Missouri, Rebecca Moseley’s youngest girl, was considered odd by the neighbors. She’d carry on conversations with the wind or she’d tell people what the trees were thinking.
Nathan, Rebecca’s murdered husband, had warned her of the gift his family carried in their blood.
She’d thought he was joking.
My momma, he’d said, she could look at ya and know ya secrets. And my sister—when she was angry, the walls trembled.
And what about you? Rebecca asked. What’s your gift?
He looked at her, measured her with his gaze. With a small quirk of his lips, he answered, Only the girls.
Trina, the eldest of their children, wasn’t born fully whole. She’d never grow up, not in her head.
Nicole, the second daughter, could sing the angels out of Heaven.
Becky, the second-to-youngest child, sometimes just knew things without knowing why.
But then Missouri… Missouri.
Heaven shakes, Becky whispered with her little two-year-old voice when Nathan showed her the baby. Daddy, Heaven shakes.
-
Michael, the secondborn and only boy, died not too long after his tenth birthday.
Nathan died a few months after, then Trina.
Becky cried every night and Nicole ran away.
Rebecca looked at her remaining children and prayed.
Nathan, ya fool. Ya were lying. So don’t ya dare be telling me this now.
-
Missouri was barely eleven when she crouched beside Becky’s bed and whispered, Tell me everythin’ will be okay.
Becky was thirteen when she whispered back, I wish ta God I could.
-
Rebecca watched her daughters grow, watched them blossom and bloom, watched with despair and determination.
Nathan didn’t tell her everything, but he damned sure told her enough.
It peaks on the eighteenth birthday, and from there it’s all downhill.
-
Nicole spent her eighteenth birthday heaving and shuddering, influenza striking hard. She could never sing as beautifully after that.
-
Nicole spent her eighteenth birthday heaving and shuddering, influenza striking hard. She could never sing as beautifully after that.
-
Becky’s eighteenth birthday came and went, leaving her in a coma. Missouri spent every waking moment by her side—didn’t leave for food or water, didn’t go to school.
Rebecca watched and waited, sobbing all the while, and when Becky’s eyes opened a month later, she only knew what she was born knowing, not people’s thoughts, not what was to come.
Rebecca sighed with relief and Missouri cried all over Becky’s hospital gown.
-
Missouri’s eighteenth birthday came and went with a small party and a few presents, and she woke the next day to Becky mumbling in her sleep about Heaven shaking.
-
Rebecca died in a car accident and Becky almost died in a plane crash. Nicole showed up for a single day, simply to say sorry, and then she vanished again.
-
Missouri was twenty-seven when she left the place she’d lived her whole life, the place most of her family died in. She traveled north, then west, knowing she’d know when she got there.
Walking down the main street of Lawrence, Kansas, she saw the woman and little boy, her hair golden and his eyes the largest hazel she’d ever seen.
Yes, her soul whispered. No, her heart replied.
Missouri bought the shop later that day and settled in for a long stay.
-
She watched John and Mary and Dean, dreamt about them, prayed for them, and sobbed herself to sleep the night Sam was conceived.
In her mind, through the folds of time, she heard her big sister at two years old whisper, Heaven shakes. Daddy, Heaven shakes.
-
When John came to her, hurting and angry, terrified to the core, vengeful, Missouri did what she had to. What she was meant to.
Evil walked your house, she told him. Evil stole her from you. And Evil is after your sons.
When John came to her, hurting and angry, terrified to the core, vengeful, Missouri did what she had to. What she was meant to.
Evil walked your house, she told him. Evil stole her from you. And Evil is after your sons.
My sons? he asked, clinging tightly to what remained of his sanity. Of the man Mary wed in Spring.
More is out there than you’ve ever fathomed, John. And It wants them.
She sent him away with the beginnings of a plan, gave him names and addresses, helped him as much as she could. She watched him drive away in that sleek black car, two babies in the back seat, hatred burning bright in his soul.
Becky called and asked, What have you done?
Missouri stared at the stars through the window and answered, Heaven only shakes if it was meant to.
-
Becky’s gift waned in the weeks and months after her eighteenth birthday. Missouri’s soared and spiraled, and the sky could not contain her.
She didn’t look for John and his boys, ever. But she still knew where they were. She could feel Mary’s presence hovering over them, shielding them from the Evil that sought them, the Evil Missouri still couldn’t name.
She didn’t look for John and his boys, ever. But she still knew where they were. She could feel Mary’s presence hovering over them, shielding them from the Evil that sought them, the Evil Missouri still couldn’t name.
Lesser things could find them, though. And Sam was a beacon that lit up the world.
-
The years passed. John hunted and killed, taught his sons the same. The Winchester name spread from coast to coast, seasoned hunters whispering it in awe.
Dean grew, and Sam grew, and Missouri shivered the night Sam left for Stanford. She wrapped the quilt around her and heard the wolves howl, felt the icy breeze blowing, smelled fire and blood. On her tongue, she tasted recrimination and regret.
In her memory, her eyelids squeezed shut tight against reality and what had to be, she saw hazel and emerald eyes, and heard It laughing.
-
I pity you, the demon murmurs, because you think you make a difference.
-
She couldn’t welcome them into her home, not really. Neither remembered meeting her, not that they should—babies, both of them, but not innocent, never innocent again.
She couldn’t welcome them into her home, not really. Neither remembered meeting her, not that they should—babies, both of them, but not innocent, never innocent again.
She greeted Sam like someone beloved, leaving Dean in the cold. She couldn’t give either of them what they needed, but she could give Sam a little, something he’d accept.
Dean would take nothing from her, too wrapped up in his pain and fury, his apprehension at being in Lawrence, his walls too high and too thick.
Missouri doted on Sam, shivering on the inside, and laughed at Dean, trying to take his thoughts away from the dark pit in his soul.
She gleaned little from their thoughts, nothing more than the surface; Missouri wasn’t timid and never had been, but digging too deep into their minds terrified her more even than the Evil she knew had walked their house.
-
She woke to screams in her mind; she’d known the poltergeist hadn’t been banished, nor that second spirit—Mary—but it wasn’t her place to tell them.
She woke to screams in her mind; she’d known the poltergeist hadn’t been banished, nor that second spirit—Mary—but it wasn’t her place to tell them.
Evil was stalking them again, had chased them from California, ghosted half a step behind them.
Heaven shakes, Daddy, Missouri whispered, longing to call Becky, but Becky was dead for five years now.
In her memory, she heard Nicole singing, her voice rising to the sky, lighting the world around her.
She only did what she had to do, what she was born to do, but she knew with bone-deep certainty that any victory would be hollow.
-
And it all happened exactly as she knew it would.
And it all happened exactly as she knew it would.
Evil walked your house.
Evil stole her from you.
Evil is after your sons.
And that final bit of information she kept from John, that one thing she couldn’t tell him, that thing she knows he saw in the cabin the night the demon branded Dean with Its bastardizing mark—she sobbed when she felt John tell Dean.
Evil is your sons.
-
Heaven shakes, the demon howls, because it’s finally falling down.