Friday - Aftermath

[jaune-chat.livejournal.com]

Welcome to a fabulous Friday! I'm jaune_chat, and I've really enjoyed hosting this week! After all we've gone through, I'd like to wrap it up with today's theme of Aftermath. After the dust settles, the fight is done, the sun rises on the morning after, or the curtain falls, what happens next?

Please do not forget the rules:
No more than three prompts to a fandom
No more than five prompts at a time
If one of your prompts is filled, you may prompt again
If your prompt or fill contains spoilers, please warn for the fandom and leave a space.

Remember to be nice to the codemonkeys and format your prompts thusly!
Fandom, Character, prompt

Example
Harry Potter, Dudley, he couldn't help but wonder what had become of his cousin (post Deathly Hallows)
X-Men: First Class, Mystique/any, after the beach, life amongst the Brotherhood.
Heroes/Firefly, Noah Bennet + Book, (pre-series) Book tries to teach a new brother that there is something left even after the life he's led.

If nothing today catches your eye, check out the lonely prompts.

tag=aftermath

Comments

Fill, long road to ruin, 1/1 (warning for horror!)

[hobnailedboots.livejournal.com]

Warning for horror

~

A demon would ride you hard and put you away wet. That was what Dean would say, anyway. Castiel never knew what he'd meant by that, but he did know that a demon could possess and animate a vessel no matter what state it was in. He'd seen vessels perforated by bullets, and vessels ragged at the edges, their limbs and joints shattered by whatever battle their puppeteers had them fighting.

Some substances would hurt demons and not their vessels - holy water, the name of god, a particular Latin phrase - and some would hurt each equally. A shot from the Colt would exterminate both demon and human at once, no matter where it struck. A wound from Ruby's knife would do the same. Castiel was not sure if the cut had to be vital; the Winchesters tended to go for the kill. He did not blame them for forgetting about the vessels. Castiel had often found himself doing the same, even though before the apocalypse he'd been occupying one.

Jimmy was long gone.

Castiel was glad. He didn't think Jimmy Novak would have liked to die by drowning. Thinking on it, Jimmy would probably have died when the Leviathans ripped up his organs to make space for their young, anyway, if not when they first invaded his body.

Better to die in an explosion of tissue, than to be torn apart by degrees.

~

When Castiel had first returned to consciousness, he thought he was dead. His vision was black, and he could not move. Over time, though, his eyes became accustomed to the gloom at the bottom of the lake, and he was able to make out his surroundings. Silt drifted along the bottom in thick, lazy swirls, punctuated by the occasional fish.

The light never changed; the lake was deep. Eventually, Castiel was able to move his head and look at his injuries. He must have been down for a while, because his body had been disfigured by more than the birthing of the Leviathans. The ragged hole where his guts used to be was striking, certainly, but Castiel was used to wounds.

His body had swollen and hardened, and his limbs had become bloated grey shadows of what they once were. His arms and right leg drifted in the current, whilst his left foot was trapped by a boulder. Were he not pinned down, Castiel supposed he would have floated to the surface and been buried or burned by the appropriate authorities. He didn't know whether to be thankful or angry for the stone that kept him there.

With his grace in its current condition, he had no hope of leaving his vessel. For a week or so, he watched the water as his body continued to expand and solidify. There was soil in his throat, which somehow caused more irritation than the shredded remains of his torso. He blocked the pain and coughed the dirt out. It hung there, suspended in the water in front of him, until he swatted it aside.

Castiel wanted to die, but trapped like this his only hope was rotting away. Even then, he had no proof that disintegration of the vessel led to disintegration of the possessor.

The Winchesters would know what to do, and if they didn't, they'd find someone who did. Castiel thought they still had an angel blade, but he could be wrong. All of his memories were as foggy as the water in which he lay.

He knew that this was his fault - the drowning - and he remembered being occupied by the Leviathans, but aside from those facts he remembered nothing beyond Sam and Adam jumping into Hell.

The Winchesters would know what to do. He clung to that fact like faith. Kill him or save him, they'd have a plan.

Castiel scrabbled in the silt for a few seconds, grasping the shard of glass that he'd seen lying there. It took days - bone was tricky - but eventually he was free. At least, with his heart torn out, the stump did not bleed.

He began to float towards the surface, but since his lungs were full of water it was an easy move to correct. Castiel pulled himself through the gloom with arms as stiff as boards, and swam along the bottom of the lake until it began to slope upwards. When the water began to grow lighter, and noises began to echo through the lake, Castiel stopped swimming.

He placed foot and stump upon the silt, and began to walk.

Re: Fill, long road to ruin, 1/1 (warning for horror!)

[shaitanah.livejournal.com]

Oh, this is simply stunning! I made the mistake of reading this at work and nearly burst into tears. Such gorgeous, vibrant imagery. Thank you very much for writing this! <3

Re: Fill, long road to ruin, 1/1 (warning for horror!)

[hobnailedboots.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I'd never written anything like this before so your comment means a lot. <3