It's that time of year again and because of the horrible stresses of RL- I find myself unable to write longer fics for now. So I thought I'd do a holiday fic-athon. :) For all my loyal readers and reviewers who have stuck with me through haphazard updates and weird moods- this is for you!
Request your fandom and pairing in the comments and I will work the first ten requests. :)
Eric Kripke owns Supernatural.
“Do you see them?” the girl with the startling blue eyes is sitting across from him. Again.
Adam shivers and pulls the blanket tighter around him, feeling the coarse edges of the woolly material give way under his fingers, feeling the full body shivers racking his system ratchet up a few notches. He can't see them, he can't feel them. Hasn't been able to, for the last month or so. They must be testing out the edges of the cage, feeling the periphery- trying to get out.
The stars are bright in the night sky, too sharp to look at directly and too numerous to be real. Adam hasn’t ever seen a sky like this when he was alive. It figures that he had to go to hell to see it.
“No,” he shivers again and bundles into the grey blanket, wrapping it tightly around his thin shoulders.
“Hmm,” the girl hums, a low contemplative sound that makes the hairs on the back of Adam’s neck stand up and a brief curl of something like hope unfurl in his stomach. Her eyes are very blue, Adam thinks, watching her. He might have liked her when he was alive, he might have hit on her, fucked her.
He can’t feel his legs, hasn’t been able to- in a very long time. It’s maybe the greatest joke in existence and Adam can’t really share it with anybody, but hell has truly frozen over. It’s freezing, cold and sharp with clear skies and intermittent snowstorms. If Lucifer’s rage, hot and boiling-had kept him going before, now his sadness and disappointment have frozen the whole place over.
“Why are you here?” Adam asks, keeping his eyes on a rock on the ground. It’s easier, talking to something that will still be here after the hallucination disappears like they always do. Adam’s learned not to speak to figments of his imagination after that day he had spent talking with his mother, only to have her disappear and never come back.
It’s good that he was already insane from having an archangel ride his body like a rollercoaster, otherwise- Adam is damn sure that he would have hopped on the cookoo-train on that night.
“Well,” the girl leans forward and touches his cheek, startling Adam so badly that he almost jumps in place. “Shit!” she exclaims and backs off from his knife that he keeps on his body at all times, mindful of the fact that he’s still in hell- even though he’s been here alone for the last ten years. “For you,” she says hurriedly, hands held up in supplication as she stares at him, “I’m here for you Adam. I’m here to take you back. Do you want to go back?...” she swallows.
Her eyes are the exact same color of the sky in Iowa, Adam blinks, cerulean and very, very clear.
He was nineteen when he died and he has spent ten years in hell because of something that he had no control over.
Adam thinks that he would very much like to gamble, drink, whore his way through a couple of towns like some people that should never be mentioned. If he has to end up in hell, he at least wants to enjoy his life first.
“Yes,” he says and his voice comes out broken and raspy, like he’s been swallowing pebbles non-stop since he got here- which, knowing Lucifer's strange sense of humor could be true, “take me home, please.”