and the kingdom comes - SN/mythology crossover - PG

[tigriswolf]

Title: and the kingdom comes

Fandom: “Supernatural”/Greek mythology crossover

Disclaimer: not my characters; just for fun. Title from Anne Sexton

Warnings: future!fic; sugary enough to rot your teeth

Pairings: none

Rating: PG

Wordcount: 670

Point of view: third

 

                He’s never believed in anything but Dad and Sammy. He’s not expecting much, when the hounds come with no mistress and no master, beyond unending pain. And it’ll be worth it, being torn apart forever. Because Sam’s alive, because Sam will live. He promised Dean to make it worth it.

                He promised. And Dean believes in Sam’s word.

                He’s not expecting much on the other side. But there is a long stone corridor, and the hounds trot beside him, midnight-black tongues lolling out of their mouths. He follows them, the largest often looking back to make sure. There are entrances, arches hanging above, with golden words in languages he cannot read. Soon, he stops looking; those openings are not for him.

                He follows the hounds, and they keep going.

                It is not hot, nor is it cold; there is no sun, but bouncing candlelight. The dogs shine silver and black and gray, the leader alone white, and Dean doesn’t understand. Where is the hellfire and torture? He sold his soul to a demon, and this corridor is not Hell, as far as he can tell.

                The lead hound looks over her shoulder and grins. 

                Dean shrugs and keeps following. Better this passageway than Hell. Much better, even if it never ends.

                Come, Hunter, a sexless voice murmurs, echoing off the stone. You have earned such a rest as only the greatest receive.

                The dogs surge forward, baying in joy and triumph. Dean sprints after them, excitement mounting. This corridor has an end, after all, and it will not be in Hell. 

                Hunter, soldier, warrior, the voice continues, wolfsong and oceanroar, avalanche and hurricane. Come home.

                The arch is golden, warm like sunlight. The dogs stream through it, but Dean pauses. Looking at it, at how welcoming it is, he doesn’t think himself worthy.

                The white dog comes back for him, a tall woman at her back. She is blonde and hazel-eyed, familiar, and Dean stares.

                “Jessica?” he asks.

                She smiles gently, dropping a hand onto the dog’s head. “No,” she answers. “I went by that name once, and many others. But here I am called something else entirely.” In her voice is wolfsong, and Dean’s mythology comes back.

                “Huntress,” he says, and she nods.

                “Here I am called Artemis, or Diana, or a thousand other variations.” She holds out her hand, palm up. “Come with me, Dean. You have earned this. He will be home, one day. He will join us, here in the warrior’s paradise.”
                A man steps through the arch, broad and strong, a mane of brown hair billowing down his back. “Artemis, your brother is looking for you.”

                “Tell him I’ll be right there, Achilles,” she responds without looking away from Dean. 

                The man, Achilles, greatest warrior ever born, rolls his eyes and turns. “Errand boy for gods,” he mutters. 

                Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Is this real?” he asks.

                The white dog noses his hand, whuffling. Come with us, that sexless voice repeats, this time with a feminine tint. You are our son and our brother; you belong to us, with us. Forever.

                He hadn’t expected much when he followed the hounds into the abyss. He had never believed in anything but Dad and Sam, and Mommy’s memory.

                The white dog has deep green eyes, that shift hazel as he watches. Come home, Dean. The voice is now familiar, loved. 

                “Mom,” he whispers.

                “On the other side,” Jessica-Artemis says, “she has another shape.” The hand has not been lowered, and Dean takes it, grips it hard.

                The archway beckons, his fate one step away. But one final thought halts that single step. “Sammy,” he says. “He’ll join us here?”

                “Yes.” Jessica-Artemis grins at him. “I doubt anything could keep him away.”

                He follows her, the white dog—Mom?—beside him, and Achilles greets him on the other side. 

                “Welcome, brother,” he says. The white dog shifts, grows taller and changes form, and Dad steps forward.

                “Dean,” both whisper. 

                It is paradise—or will be, when Sam comes home.

Comments

[oriundus.livejournal.com]

Oh, yes yes YES. After all the doom&gloom hell!fic lately, this is gloriously light and sweet and warmfuzzymaking.

Though I can't help thinking Dean would get bored with any heaven-type place after a while, and now I've got pictures of him arguing the merits of tequila and beer over wine with Dionysus...

[tigriswolf]

*hee* Thank you!

[janissa11.livejournal.com]

Oh, beautiful! It seems to me that Dean's good deeds ought to trump the sold-his-soul thing. ::firm nod:: And what a fabulous place to wind up!

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[iamstealthyone.livejournal.com]

It’s good to see Dean get a reward for all his hard work, and I really like all the imagery here. Nicely done.

Favorite lines:

the hounds trot beside him, midnight-black tongues lolling out of their mouths

Good description.

Hunter, soldier, warrior, the voice continues, wolfsong and oceanroar, avalanche and hurricane.

Ooh, I especially like this description.

“Yes.” Jessica-Artemis grins at him. “I doubt anything could keep him away.”

Nope. Nothing could. :)

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!

[realpestilence.livejournal.com]

*sobs*


Any higher power that cared in the slightest about human beings would *have* to step in, I think. I doubt that'll happen on the show, but if it was real...? Yes.

Though once they're dead and incorporeal, etc, they'd almost *have* to change to cope with the timelessness and lack of need to do things. To be able to just *be*.

It's a lovely fic. My name's Diana, so...I got a soft spot, there. *smiles*

[tigriswolf]

's'pretty name.

Thank you for reading!

[canadiangoddess.livejournal.com]

*sigh* This is just what I needed, somehting warm and fuzzy about Dean's death...not that I want to think about his death or anything...but still. Beautiful.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[miconic.livejournal.com]

A cool crossover. I prefer such an ending, an alternative they would have crossed of, not even attempt to think. Thanks for sharing the fic.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading.

[unbreakableburr.livejournal.com]

Awwwww.
::sniffs::

[tigriswolf]

*offers tissue*

[unbreakableburr.livejournal.com]

::blows nose::
Heh.

[percysowner.livejournal.com]

I really love this. Dean gets his just reward and is not sentenced to Hell. Even better is the idea that for Dean, there is no heaven if Sam isn't there too. And, of course, Sam will join him eventually.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you for reading!

[smilla02.livejournal.com]

It is paradise—or will be, when Sam comes home.
YES!
Such a perfect little story! And it put a big grin on my face, because it's hopeful and *right* for Dean to be recognized for the good he's done

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!

[creeno.livejournal.com]

Eeeee. My nerddom, she is very happy. Eeee. ♥

I thought Jess was a Valkyrie for a moment there. XD Also, the Mary = dogo'Artemis makes me squeal, just a bit. As for Achilles, you have my eternal LOL at him being errand boy.

Last line = awesome.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!

[redheadforever.livejournal.com]

Ah, faithful, ferocious Dean deserves the Warrior's Heaven.

Like Worf telling someone (escapes me who) a non-Klingon would truly be in Sto-Vo-Kor for his/her bravery (his dead Trill wife?).

How fascinating that all the people around Dean turn out to be gods or mythological figures -- but he turns out to simply be Dean Winchester. Nothing else needed. And what is Sammy going to be? Funny if he turns out to BE Dionysius, the human who doesn't have the drink capacity of his brother being the god of wine. He's also the god of fertility, er, and also if you think of it, probably a case could be made for the god of mpreg, as when his human mother was killed too early for him to be born, his father Zeus put him in his own thigh until he finished gestating and was born from there (an appellation for him is "born from the thigh"). Dionysius is also the only god who wasn't born from two full gods, hark Sammy.

Dean doesn't need to be a god. He's a protector spirit, has always in canon or fanon defined any self-worth as relation to others, particularly the adored Sam(my), although whether he CAN be happy where no one, even his Sammy, needs protecting, is another story. However, with all the internecine warfare going on among the gods in mythology, Dean will have his hands full, especially with the powers that will undoubtedly be granted him along the way for his own protection and in thanks for services well rendered. He might even achieve -- or realize -- his own form of individual immortality as a shapeshifting (how ironic), protector animal or minor god.

Again, Dean is being rewarded for faithful service. Lovely.

*Roses and chocolates to the author*

Red
Happy Deanwoman

[tigriswolf]

Thank you so much!

[wizefics.livejournal.com]

This was gorgeous. I enjoyed it very much, even if it did make me teary.

[tigriswolf]

Thank you!

[melanth0.livejournal.com]

gahhhh awesome.

I adore that Artemis is Jess. so good.

[tigriswolf]

*hee* Thank you!