Death Becomes Me Chapter 2 of 6 SPN RPS J2 fic
Monday, July 12th, 2010 03:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
evila_elfTitle: Death Becomes Me Chapter 2 of 6
Rating: R
Pairing: Jared/Jensen pre-slash
Word count: 2430 (this part)
Summary: Ever wonder what it would be like to wake up dead? Jensen doesn’t have to wonder. He is finding his own death very inconvenient.
Warnings: This is a death fic, but with a twist. Not sure if you can read it? Drop me an e-mail.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them. I just borrow them for torturing purposes.
CHAPTER 2
At first, he could only make out faces, the edges lost in a colored glow, but then the spheres started elongating until he could see bodies, arms, hands, legs. He could also start to see his own hands and feet, which was a relief. They passed by many people as Abby searched out her friends. All of them had a different colored halo of light surrounding them, hiding their details unless he stood close enough. It reminded him of surreal dreams he’d had as a child.
“These are all of the newer people,” she said softly, weaving through the crowd.
“Don’t they have someone? Like you to help them out?”
“There are a lot of people who die every day,” was all that she said.
The crowds thinned the further they walked until there wasn’t a soul around. Ahead, the white seemed to shimmer as they drew closer and Jensen could feel his skin tingle with energy. He paused and watched as Abby passed through it, disappearing from his sight. Cautiously, he followed. Instead of the cold feel he had begun to associate with walls, this one tickled as it washed over him. Then he stopped and stared. To his right were two people sitting at a little two seat table eating ice cream and laughing. A picture of John Wayne hung suspended next to them, attached to thin air, for there was no wall to support it. Not more than 10 feet away from them was a grassy field where a game of tag was taking place. A pair of girls lounged on recliners surrounded by an endless wall of books only inches away from the grass.
Abby grabbed onto Jensen’s arm and tugged him toward the grass, for once acting like the young girl that she was. Jensen allowed her to lead, still overwhelmed by his surroundings. As soon as they crossed the threshold into the grass, it was like stepping into a different world. All blue sky and birdsong and drying grass. Then he felt a pull downward as Abby sat in front of a couple and he couldn’t help but follow or fall on his face.
“Jensen, meet Sandra and Brent Miller.”
Jensen, still dazed, reached his hand out and shook the hands of the middle aged couple. “Jensen Ackles.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw a squirrel. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, forcing his attention back to the man and woman in front of him.
“First day, son?” the man asked
Jensen nodded with a relieved smile.
“Well, get settled and help yourself.” Sandra nodded toward the picnic basket.
Jensen ignored the offer and looked to Abby for help.
“Go on and we’ll explain everything to you.”
Jensen found a perfect slice of blueberry pie in the basket, his favorite, and it tasted so good that he forgot that he was having a picnic with a bunch of dead people. Until he realized he was licking the fork clean. He looked up to find three amused people watching him. “That pie wasn’t real, was it?”
“But it tasted good, didn’t it?”
Jensen shared a grin with Brent. “Yeah,” he agreed.
“These two are a success story,” Abby said, getting back to business. “They found each other after seven years apart.”
“Yeah.” Sandra looked over at Brent and smiled. “I passed first. Kept tabs on Brent until he passed seven years later. Some people lose touch and then can never find each other.”
“This must really be some big place then?”
Abby lay back in the grass, arms under her head. “Jensen, think of how big the universe is.”
Jensen didn’t want to think about it. It made him feel uncomfortable. He thanked the Millers for the pie and stood. Abby followed behind him as he walked away.
The grass was seamlessly joined, but he could feel a difference as he stepped into a new...bubble, for lack of a better word. The air was cooler with a touch of wind that carried the laughter from a children's softball game. He crossed his arms and leaned up against a tree.
Abby approached him cautiously, as if she were afraid he would walk off again. “Was it something I said?”
Jensen ignored her question. “Have you found anyone yet?”
Abby seemed surprised by the question. “No. My mamma was the only one I was close to. She stopped remembering me over 35 years ago.”
“How can a mother just forget her child?”
“She didn’t forget about me,” Abby said defensively. “She just stopped thinking about me all the time. We can only be with people who are constantly thinking of us. But I got to watch over her for 15 years. A lot longer than most people get.”
“Did she die?”
Abby shrugged. “We don’t get told when people die. I want to imagine that she’s still alive and that that’s the reason why I can’t find her.” She sat down and plucked out a blade of grass, watching as a new blade grew to fill its place. She shrugged again, silent.
Jensen felt bad. He plopped down on the ground next to her, but didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Instead, he focused on his arm and the glow that surrounded it. When he moved his arm fast enough, it looked like it was on fire, the green stretching and waving in the breeze.
“You look silly.”
Jensen just grinned.
***
They stayed there in companionable silence until the grass slowly faded out from underneath them, their world once again bleached with white. Jensen sat up from where he had been lying on his back, watching thistle seeds drift by overhead.. All around him the other ‘bubbles’ dissolved until there was literally nothing there but the people who had created them. “What’s going on?” he asked Abby, wondering why she seemed so calm.
“You asked me how I knew when it was night time. Well, now you know my secret.” Abby made a generalized gesture.
“Why do they stop at night?”
“Creating your own space, even just a tiny one, is a lot of work. Easier during the day.”
“Does this mean I can see him again?”
Abby rolled her eyes.
“Well?”
“I don’t think it is a good idea.”
“So you’ve said. Look, I don’t really need your permission, but I would like to have you spotting me in case things take a bad turn.”
“Fine, but I am doing it under protest.”
“Duly noted. And thanks,” he added sincerely.
***
Jared’s voice was easier to find the second time. Jensen swiftly followed it, letting it pull him closer and closer until there he was, in the same spot as the night before. He barely paid the scenery any mind, or Abby as she hurried to catch up with his long strides to his house.
“Calm down or you might lose the link,” Abby warned as they paused at the front door.
“I am calm.” Jensen was anything but. He took a few deep breaths before quickly moving through the door. The feeling of the door seemed to cling to him, as if reluctant to let him go of its dead grasp. “Is this the same night as ours?” If night had just begun, wouldn’t it be dusk?
“Yes. We haven’t been able to exactly tell, but our days last about half as long. It should be around midnight here.”
Things just kept getting stranger the more he found out. “Do you think he’ll be able to see me this time?”
“Are you sure he saw you before?”
“Did you miss the part where he looked right at me and said my name? And don’t forget the dogs barking.”
“Some say dogs can sense things...”
“You just don’t want to believe it.” Hell, even he was doubtful. The bedroom door was ajar again and Jensen squeaked past it, doing a sideways limbo to keep from touching it. Once inside, he was unsure what to do. Both the dogs were on the floor this time, snoring, and Jensen didn’t think they would be waking up any time soon to alert Jared to his presence.
Abby stayed back, just inside the room, as Jensen approached the bed. He felt his vision waver and forced his racing heartbeat to calm down. He looked back at Abby and she nodded at him, letting him know he was in no danger for the moment.
Once again Jared was tangled up in his sheets, one arm tucked under his pillow and the other fisted in his comforter. Up close he looked horrible: Dark bags under his eyes, lips chapped and looking like he had been biting them recently.
Jensen wanted to grab him, shake him awake and tell him that he was alright, but what would it feel like if his hands passed through Jared? Would it feel cold and dead like the door? Jensen didn’t want to find out. He glanced once more at Abby before taking a deep breath. “Jared?” he said, voice so soft he could barely hear it himself. He tried again, louder this time.
Jared groaned like he was fighting consciousness.
“Jay, come on buddy, wake up. It’s Jensen.”
As soon as Jensen mentioned his name, Jared’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot and red rimmed. He fumbled for the switch on his lamp, almost knocking the thing over because his hands shook.
Their eyes locked, just like they had before Jensen had been yanked away.
Jensen felt like he was dealing with a wild animal and any wrong move could send it running for cover. “Didja miss me?” He realized it wasn’t the best thing to say when Jared’s face crumpled, eyes watering.
Jared turned away, burying his face in his pillows.
“Jared? Come on, man, it’s me.” Jensen took a step closer to the bed, not sure what to do. He didn’t deal well when people cried. He wanted to reach out and slap Jared, tell him to stop being a pussy. But even if he could touch, that seemed like a bad idea.
“Not real. Not real.” Jared said the words over and over again, like a mantra, muffled by the pillow.
Was he real? Jensen couldn’t really argue.
“Why did you have to leave me, you asshole?”
Jensen frowned, crossing his arms and trying to get his legs to stop shaking. “Right, I chose to off myself.”
The dogs were now awake, taking notice of their master’s discomfort, whining and putting their paws up on the bed.
“Why’d you do it?” Jared asked again.
Suddenly, Jensen couldn’t breathe. His legs felt weak and he dropped to his knees, eyes snapping shut. How could a dead guy stop breathing? Then Abby was right beside him.
“Let go!” Abby shook him, then slapped him sharply across the face.
When Jensen opened his eyes again, the bedroom had disappeared and he was once again in the ‘white room,’ as he decided to call it. And he could breathe.
Abby’s eyes were wide, her mouth pinched in a thin line.
“What the hell just happened?”
“You almost burned out!”
Jensen tried to take a step and fell, limbs feeling like they were made out of jelly.
“You’ll be like that until sunrise. Serves you right.”
“Give a newbie a break, will ya? How was I supposed to know?”
“Weakness? Shortness of breath?”
“But I always feel like that when I’m upset. Or hearing my best friend accuse me of dying on purpose!” He tried to shout the last sentence, but only a gruff whisper came out. "When the hell’s sunrise?" He hated the weak feeling, doing all he could to keep his head from lolling to the side.
"I don’t know," Abby said, unhelpfully.
Screw it. Jensen flopped over onto his back, trying to trick himself into believing that he was doing it out of his own free will.
"Be right back."
Abby ran off before Jensen could think of trying to stop her.
Soon she returned, the Millers in tow.
"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" Brent said, not unkindly, crouching down at Jensen's side.
"Here." Sandra knelt next to her husband, Abby joining on his other side. All three of them clasped hands, Sandra's free hand pressing palm down against the ground and Abby's against Jensen's chest.
Jensen felt a strange sensation under his back and warmth under Abby's hand. He looked to his side, away from the trio, and saw grass shoots springing up around him and under him. "What are you doing?" His voice was stronger now.
Sandra, Brent, and Abby dropped hands, Abby's lingering a little over Jensen before sitting back and smiling.
Jensen now lay in a small field of grass and he felt a hundred times stronger than he had, which wasn't saying much since he could barely hold his head up before. "Dude, what did you guys do?"
"It's harder to create places during the nightfall, but it can be done," Brent explained.
"And I gave you some of my energy." Abby's words slurred slightly and she sounded like a kid ready for bedtime but resisting.
"You didn't have to do that." Jensen felt bad.
"No worries. I can recharge. Like a battery." She smiled, pleased at her joke.
***
Jensen relaxed to the soft grass and soft voices that surrounded him and let himself drift in a kind of half-sleep reserved for lounging in the shade on sunny days. He didn't care that he wasn't a part of the conversation, or even if he was the conversation.
Sometime later, a strange tingling vibrated up him, gentle, like a soft hum against his skin. He opened his eyes to find Abby smiling at him.
"The sun’s rising."
Jensen looked around and saw the grass-line lengthening as the Millers added the sun's energy to their own. More people started showing up, ‘growing’ spots for themselves until Jensen could barely see more than a crack of white to indicate where one place ended and the other began. He wondered if maybe one day he would be able to do that, create a little world just for himself...But no. He couldn't imagine a world without Jared in it. Since Jared couldn't come to him, he would save up all of his energy so he could keep visiting Jared and work on getting stronger so he would be able to stay longer.
"Would you like some pie?" Brent asked, producing a picnic basket.
Jensen sat up slowly. He still felt weak, but better. "Pie sounds wonderful."
Chapter 3
Rating: R
Pairing: Jared/Jensen pre-slash
Word count: 2430 (this part)
Summary: Ever wonder what it would be like to wake up dead? Jensen doesn’t have to wonder. He is finding his own death very inconvenient.
Warnings: This is a death fic, but with a twist. Not sure if you can read it? Drop me an e-mail.
Disclaimer: Don’t own them. I just borrow them for torturing purposes.
CHAPTER 2
At first, he could only make out faces, the edges lost in a colored glow, but then the spheres started elongating until he could see bodies, arms, hands, legs. He could also start to see his own hands and feet, which was a relief. They passed by many people as Abby searched out her friends. All of them had a different colored halo of light surrounding them, hiding their details unless he stood close enough. It reminded him of surreal dreams he’d had as a child.
“These are all of the newer people,” she said softly, weaving through the crowd.
“Don’t they have someone? Like you to help them out?”
“There are a lot of people who die every day,” was all that she said.
The crowds thinned the further they walked until there wasn’t a soul around. Ahead, the white seemed to shimmer as they drew closer and Jensen could feel his skin tingle with energy. He paused and watched as Abby passed through it, disappearing from his sight. Cautiously, he followed. Instead of the cold feel he had begun to associate with walls, this one tickled as it washed over him. Then he stopped and stared. To his right were two people sitting at a little two seat table eating ice cream and laughing. A picture of John Wayne hung suspended next to them, attached to thin air, for there was no wall to support it. Not more than 10 feet away from them was a grassy field where a game of tag was taking place. A pair of girls lounged on recliners surrounded by an endless wall of books only inches away from the grass.
Abby grabbed onto Jensen’s arm and tugged him toward the grass, for once acting like the young girl that she was. Jensen allowed her to lead, still overwhelmed by his surroundings. As soon as they crossed the threshold into the grass, it was like stepping into a different world. All blue sky and birdsong and drying grass. Then he felt a pull downward as Abby sat in front of a couple and he couldn’t help but follow or fall on his face.
“Jensen, meet Sandra and Brent Miller.”
Jensen, still dazed, reached his hand out and shook the hands of the middle aged couple. “Jensen Ackles.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw a squirrel. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, forcing his attention back to the man and woman in front of him.
“First day, son?” the man asked
Jensen nodded with a relieved smile.
“Well, get settled and help yourself.” Sandra nodded toward the picnic basket.
Jensen ignored the offer and looked to Abby for help.
“Go on and we’ll explain everything to you.”
Jensen found a perfect slice of blueberry pie in the basket, his favorite, and it tasted so good that he forgot that he was having a picnic with a bunch of dead people. Until he realized he was licking the fork clean. He looked up to find three amused people watching him. “That pie wasn’t real, was it?”
“But it tasted good, didn’t it?”
Jensen shared a grin with Brent. “Yeah,” he agreed.
“These two are a success story,” Abby said, getting back to business. “They found each other after seven years apart.”
“Yeah.” Sandra looked over at Brent and smiled. “I passed first. Kept tabs on Brent until he passed seven years later. Some people lose touch and then can never find each other.”
“This must really be some big place then?”
Abby lay back in the grass, arms under her head. “Jensen, think of how big the universe is.”
Jensen didn’t want to think about it. It made him feel uncomfortable. He thanked the Millers for the pie and stood. Abby followed behind him as he walked away.
The grass was seamlessly joined, but he could feel a difference as he stepped into a new...bubble, for lack of a better word. The air was cooler with a touch of wind that carried the laughter from a children's softball game. He crossed his arms and leaned up against a tree.
Abby approached him cautiously, as if she were afraid he would walk off again. “Was it something I said?”
Jensen ignored her question. “Have you found anyone yet?”
Abby seemed surprised by the question. “No. My mamma was the only one I was close to. She stopped remembering me over 35 years ago.”
“How can a mother just forget her child?”
“She didn’t forget about me,” Abby said defensively. “She just stopped thinking about me all the time. We can only be with people who are constantly thinking of us. But I got to watch over her for 15 years. A lot longer than most people get.”
“Did she die?”
Abby shrugged. “We don’t get told when people die. I want to imagine that she’s still alive and that that’s the reason why I can’t find her.” She sat down and plucked out a blade of grass, watching as a new blade grew to fill its place. She shrugged again, silent.
Jensen felt bad. He plopped down on the ground next to her, but didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Instead, he focused on his arm and the glow that surrounded it. When he moved his arm fast enough, it looked like it was on fire, the green stretching and waving in the breeze.
“You look silly.”
Jensen just grinned.
***
They stayed there in companionable silence until the grass slowly faded out from underneath them, their world once again bleached with white. Jensen sat up from where he had been lying on his back, watching thistle seeds drift by overhead.. All around him the other ‘bubbles’ dissolved until there was literally nothing there but the people who had created them. “What’s going on?” he asked Abby, wondering why she seemed so calm.
“You asked me how I knew when it was night time. Well, now you know my secret.” Abby made a generalized gesture.
“Why do they stop at night?”
“Creating your own space, even just a tiny one, is a lot of work. Easier during the day.”
“Does this mean I can see him again?”
Abby rolled her eyes.
“Well?”
“I don’t think it is a good idea.”
“So you’ve said. Look, I don’t really need your permission, but I would like to have you spotting me in case things take a bad turn.”
“Fine, but I am doing it under protest.”
“Duly noted. And thanks,” he added sincerely.
***
Jared’s voice was easier to find the second time. Jensen swiftly followed it, letting it pull him closer and closer until there he was, in the same spot as the night before. He barely paid the scenery any mind, or Abby as she hurried to catch up with his long strides to his house.
“Calm down or you might lose the link,” Abby warned as they paused at the front door.
“I am calm.” Jensen was anything but. He took a few deep breaths before quickly moving through the door. The feeling of the door seemed to cling to him, as if reluctant to let him go of its dead grasp. “Is this the same night as ours?” If night had just begun, wouldn’t it be dusk?
“Yes. We haven’t been able to exactly tell, but our days last about half as long. It should be around midnight here.”
Things just kept getting stranger the more he found out. “Do you think he’ll be able to see me this time?”
“Are you sure he saw you before?”
“Did you miss the part where he looked right at me and said my name? And don’t forget the dogs barking.”
“Some say dogs can sense things...”
“You just don’t want to believe it.” Hell, even he was doubtful. The bedroom door was ajar again and Jensen squeaked past it, doing a sideways limbo to keep from touching it. Once inside, he was unsure what to do. Both the dogs were on the floor this time, snoring, and Jensen didn’t think they would be waking up any time soon to alert Jared to his presence.
Abby stayed back, just inside the room, as Jensen approached the bed. He felt his vision waver and forced his racing heartbeat to calm down. He looked back at Abby and she nodded at him, letting him know he was in no danger for the moment.
Once again Jared was tangled up in his sheets, one arm tucked under his pillow and the other fisted in his comforter. Up close he looked horrible: Dark bags under his eyes, lips chapped and looking like he had been biting them recently.
Jensen wanted to grab him, shake him awake and tell him that he was alright, but what would it feel like if his hands passed through Jared? Would it feel cold and dead like the door? Jensen didn’t want to find out. He glanced once more at Abby before taking a deep breath. “Jared?” he said, voice so soft he could barely hear it himself. He tried again, louder this time.
Jared groaned like he was fighting consciousness.
“Jay, come on buddy, wake up. It’s Jensen.”
As soon as Jensen mentioned his name, Jared’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot and red rimmed. He fumbled for the switch on his lamp, almost knocking the thing over because his hands shook.
Their eyes locked, just like they had before Jensen had been yanked away.
Jensen felt like he was dealing with a wild animal and any wrong move could send it running for cover. “Didja miss me?” He realized it wasn’t the best thing to say when Jared’s face crumpled, eyes watering.
Jared turned away, burying his face in his pillows.
“Jared? Come on, man, it’s me.” Jensen took a step closer to the bed, not sure what to do. He didn’t deal well when people cried. He wanted to reach out and slap Jared, tell him to stop being a pussy. But even if he could touch, that seemed like a bad idea.
“Not real. Not real.” Jared said the words over and over again, like a mantra, muffled by the pillow.
Was he real? Jensen couldn’t really argue.
“Why did you have to leave me, you asshole?”
Jensen frowned, crossing his arms and trying to get his legs to stop shaking. “Right, I chose to off myself.”
The dogs were now awake, taking notice of their master’s discomfort, whining and putting their paws up on the bed.
“Why’d you do it?” Jared asked again.
Suddenly, Jensen couldn’t breathe. His legs felt weak and he dropped to his knees, eyes snapping shut. How could a dead guy stop breathing? Then Abby was right beside him.
“Let go!” Abby shook him, then slapped him sharply across the face.
When Jensen opened his eyes again, the bedroom had disappeared and he was once again in the ‘white room,’ as he decided to call it. And he could breathe.
Abby’s eyes were wide, her mouth pinched in a thin line.
“What the hell just happened?”
“You almost burned out!”
Jensen tried to take a step and fell, limbs feeling like they were made out of jelly.
“You’ll be like that until sunrise. Serves you right.”
“Give a newbie a break, will ya? How was I supposed to know?”
“Weakness? Shortness of breath?”
“But I always feel like that when I’m upset. Or hearing my best friend accuse me of dying on purpose!” He tried to shout the last sentence, but only a gruff whisper came out. "When the hell’s sunrise?" He hated the weak feeling, doing all he could to keep his head from lolling to the side.
"I don’t know," Abby said, unhelpfully.
Screw it. Jensen flopped over onto his back, trying to trick himself into believing that he was doing it out of his own free will.
"Be right back."
Abby ran off before Jensen could think of trying to stop her.
Soon she returned, the Millers in tow.
"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" Brent said, not unkindly, crouching down at Jensen's side.
"Here." Sandra knelt next to her husband, Abby joining on his other side. All three of them clasped hands, Sandra's free hand pressing palm down against the ground and Abby's against Jensen's chest.
Jensen felt a strange sensation under his back and warmth under Abby's hand. He looked to his side, away from the trio, and saw grass shoots springing up around him and under him. "What are you doing?" His voice was stronger now.
Sandra, Brent, and Abby dropped hands, Abby's lingering a little over Jensen before sitting back and smiling.
Jensen now lay in a small field of grass and he felt a hundred times stronger than he had, which wasn't saying much since he could barely hold his head up before. "Dude, what did you guys do?"
"It's harder to create places during the nightfall, but it can be done," Brent explained.
"And I gave you some of my energy." Abby's words slurred slightly and she sounded like a kid ready for bedtime but resisting.
"You didn't have to do that." Jensen felt bad.
"No worries. I can recharge. Like a battery." She smiled, pleased at her joke.
***
Jensen relaxed to the soft grass and soft voices that surrounded him and let himself drift in a kind of half-sleep reserved for lounging in the shade on sunny days. He didn't care that he wasn't a part of the conversation, or even if he was the conversation.
Sometime later, a strange tingling vibrated up him, gentle, like a soft hum against his skin. He opened his eyes to find Abby smiling at him.
"The sun’s rising."
Jensen looked around and saw the grass-line lengthening as the Millers added the sun's energy to their own. More people started showing up, ‘growing’ spots for themselves until Jensen could barely see more than a crack of white to indicate where one place ended and the other began. He wondered if maybe one day he would be able to do that, create a little world just for himself...But no. He couldn't imagine a world without Jared in it. Since Jared couldn't come to him, he would save up all of his energy so he could keep visiting Jared and work on getting stronger so he would be able to stay longer.
"Would you like some pie?" Brent asked, producing a picnic basket.
Jensen sat up slowly. He still felt weak, but better. "Pie sounds wonderful."
Chapter 3
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2010-07-12 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-13 12:00 pm (UTC)New part is up now!
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Date: 2010-07-12 05:36 pm (UTC)I want to know how jensen died.
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Date: 2010-07-13 12:00 pm (UTC)New part is up now!
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Date: 2010-07-12 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-13 12:01 pm (UTC)New part is up now!