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[MWR] Friday Night Lights quote
Jan. 13th, 2009 04:16 pm[Ruby = ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ilove_atallman. Set in the new Sam/99 verse, and takes place somewhere in the middle of THIS. Have to read that first (for which I apologize because it’s epically long) or else this’ll be kinda confusing.]
“We will all at some time in our lives, fall. Life is so very fragile, we are all vulnerable, and we will all at some point in our lives, fall, we will all fall. We must carry this in our hearts, that what we have is special, that it can be taken from us, and that when it is taken from us, we will be tested. We will be tested to our very souls. We will all be tested.”
He hadn’t meant to doze off in the car, but he did. He was just so tired. They never rested, they were just always running, always trying to stay two steps ahead of the demons that were trying to kill him, trying to reclaim him, send him back where he belonged. Ruby wasn’t going to let that happen, for some strange reason Dean couldn’t explain, and it was fear that kept him from doing things himself. Fear of going back there, fear of what he was becoming, fear of everything around him.
He didn’t deserve this newfound life. He knew he didn’t, and that was what made it scary. He felt it all, the weight of every day of those two hundred forty years, and he wasn’t strong enough to take it. Every time he closed his eyes, the feel of Hell in all it’s power and oppression, closing in around him. He couldn’t think or breathe, as the weight sat down on his chest, crushing him, every day. Even when he wasn’t sleeping he felt the weight of it. When he closed his eyes, though, he could hear them scream, remember the sensations of the hook digging into the flesh, remember the pleasure he got from it. All of Hell was pain and suffering, twisting and torture, but when he had a soul in front of him, when he got off the rack and was the one taking control and digging in and hearing them scream. The screams were like music, a twisted chorus that echoed off the walls and now rattled him to the core, pushing him onto himself even more.
Most of the time, his nightmares had no faces, just another soul on the other end, a shapeless body that he couldn’t put a name to. He could see everything about them, all their hopes and memories, dreams and fears. As he got better at what he did, he started to use them, twisting them to his own ends, using them to make them scream louder, to make them feel the pain of what he was doing to them.
What they’d earned.
( *** )
1420 words
ilove_atallman. Set in the new Sam/99 verse, and takes place somewhere in the middle of THIS. Have to read that first (for which I apologize because it’s epically long) or else this’ll be kinda confusing.]“We will all at some time in our lives, fall. Life is so very fragile, we are all vulnerable, and we will all at some point in our lives, fall, we will all fall. We must carry this in our hearts, that what we have is special, that it can be taken from us, and that when it is taken from us, we will be tested. We will be tested to our very souls. We will all be tested.”
He hadn’t meant to doze off in the car, but he did. He was just so tired. They never rested, they were just always running, always trying to stay two steps ahead of the demons that were trying to kill him, trying to reclaim him, send him back where he belonged. Ruby wasn’t going to let that happen, for some strange reason Dean couldn’t explain, and it was fear that kept him from doing things himself. Fear of going back there, fear of what he was becoming, fear of everything around him.
He didn’t deserve this newfound life. He knew he didn’t, and that was what made it scary. He felt it all, the weight of every day of those two hundred forty years, and he wasn’t strong enough to take it. Every time he closed his eyes, the feel of Hell in all it’s power and oppression, closing in around him. He couldn’t think or breathe, as the weight sat down on his chest, crushing him, every day. Even when he wasn’t sleeping he felt the weight of it. When he closed his eyes, though, he could hear them scream, remember the sensations of the hook digging into the flesh, remember the pleasure he got from it. All of Hell was pain and suffering, twisting and torture, but when he had a soul in front of him, when he got off the rack and was the one taking control and digging in and hearing them scream. The screams were like music, a twisted chorus that echoed off the walls and now rattled him to the core, pushing him onto himself even more.
Most of the time, his nightmares had no faces, just another soul on the other end, a shapeless body that he couldn’t put a name to. He could see everything about them, all their hopes and memories, dreams and fears. As he got better at what he did, he started to use them, twisting them to his own ends, using them to make them scream louder, to make them feel the pain of what he was doing to them.
What they’d earned.
( *** )
1420 words
