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angryfistofgod2011-11-19 01:12 pm
humanelemental.livejournal.com) wrote in angryfistofgod2011-11-19 01:12 pm
Entry tags:
- ace + dave stryder
She didn't get it.
One moment she was in heaven – talking, listening, knowing that all was right in the world. The next she was scratching furiously at her coffin, trying to dig herself out of it – the pressure the knowing that something brought her back to life and that if she didn't move fast she could die all over again--
Then light.
The coffin lid was open and she was being tugged out by a boy claiming to be Metatron.
What felt like a day to her was actually 2 months, two long months – she knew she had been dead, it was obvious. People she cared about were missing – but others, well. They took her by the hand and told her of things that came before. None of it mattered – it all felt like a dream, now that she thought about it. A decent dream that could only be upgraded with the presence of one person.
Dave.
2 months.
She missed Dave's birthday. She curses herself – caught up in that dream she forgot his birthday. She feels like the worst big sister ever.
Metatron obviously doesn't care enough about her plights as he tells her that they need to go see Marco right away and it's why two days later they're in Boston, standing in front of the seedy bar that Marco owned. She steps in like nothings wrong, white dress flowing all about her as her scruffed and marked boots thumped against the floor. She knows everything went quiet – she can feel their gazes in her skin, burning hotter than any fire she could ever produce.
She sits at the bar, looking up at Anne and grinned cheerfully.
“Heaven sucks, gimme a beer,” she hummed, nodding to the red head, purring almost happily when the long neck bottle was opened and given to her. She knows that when a hand is on her shoulder it's Dave – she also knows by the way it's gripping her shoulder that Dave is fighting a lot of emotions.
She spins in her stool and looked at him, her brow raising as she sees him rear back and move in to clock her in the chin. She barely dodges and dances behind him, wrapping her arms around him.
“You-- You--” he growls. “Two months and that's all you can say?! 'Heaven sucks' and you want a goddamned beer--”
Her arms tighten around him and she buries her face into his neck. “Missed you too, wasn't quite right without you there.” He breaks then, she feels it in his form, he's scooping her up close and she knows he's crying then. She slowly reaches for Metatron, who hands her a small blue box. “Happy belated Birthday, kiddo.”
“Stupid,” he mutters. “It doesn't matter.”
She can feel the wetness of tears seep into the sleeve of her dress and she's leaning in closer and pets his hair with one hand. She's unsure of what to do – the last time she tried to comfort him when he was crying was the night that he realized that Mom was never coming home. She failed at it then too, only managing to hold him until he cried himself to sleep as she could only say stupid, insensitive things that would only make the then 7 year old Dave cry harder. “I got you a new necklace, I mean – the one I got you for turning ten broke last time I saw you right? I only assumed you'd want a --”
“Ace, shut up,” he grumbles, clinging more.
“But--” she pauses, then realizes that maybe words weren't needed at that moment. She can only hug him in front of everyone's prying eyes and feel awkward. “Love you, Dave.”
“You too, sis.”
One moment she was in heaven – talking, listening, knowing that all was right in the world. The next she was scratching furiously at her coffin, trying to dig herself out of it – the pressure the knowing that something brought her back to life and that if she didn't move fast she could die all over again--
Then light.
The coffin lid was open and she was being tugged out by a boy claiming to be Metatron.
What felt like a day to her was actually 2 months, two long months – she knew she had been dead, it was obvious. People she cared about were missing – but others, well. They took her by the hand and told her of things that came before. None of it mattered – it all felt like a dream, now that she thought about it. A decent dream that could only be upgraded with the presence of one person.
Dave.
2 months.
She missed Dave's birthday. She curses herself – caught up in that dream she forgot his birthday. She feels like the worst big sister ever.
Metatron obviously doesn't care enough about her plights as he tells her that they need to go see Marco right away and it's why two days later they're in Boston, standing in front of the seedy bar that Marco owned. She steps in like nothings wrong, white dress flowing all about her as her scruffed and marked boots thumped against the floor. She knows everything went quiet – she can feel their gazes in her skin, burning hotter than any fire she could ever produce.
She sits at the bar, looking up at Anne and grinned cheerfully.
“Heaven sucks, gimme a beer,” she hummed, nodding to the red head, purring almost happily when the long neck bottle was opened and given to her. She knows that when a hand is on her shoulder it's Dave – she also knows by the way it's gripping her shoulder that Dave is fighting a lot of emotions.
She spins in her stool and looked at him, her brow raising as she sees him rear back and move in to clock her in the chin. She barely dodges and dances behind him, wrapping her arms around him.
“You-- You--” he growls. “Two months and that's all you can say?! 'Heaven sucks' and you want a goddamned beer--”
Her arms tighten around him and she buries her face into his neck. “Missed you too, wasn't quite right without you there.” He breaks then, she feels it in his form, he's scooping her up close and she knows he's crying then. She slowly reaches for Metatron, who hands her a small blue box. “Happy belated Birthday, kiddo.”
“Stupid,” he mutters. “It doesn't matter.”
She can feel the wetness of tears seep into the sleeve of her dress and she's leaning in closer and pets his hair with one hand. She's unsure of what to do – the last time she tried to comfort him when he was crying was the night that he realized that Mom was never coming home. She failed at it then too, only managing to hold him until he cried himself to sleep as she could only say stupid, insensitive things that would only make the then 7 year old Dave cry harder. “I got you a new necklace, I mean – the one I got you for turning ten broke last time I saw you right? I only assumed you'd want a --”
“Ace, shut up,” he grumbles, clinging more.
“But--” she pauses, then realizes that maybe words weren't needed at that moment. She can only hug him in front of everyone's prying eyes and feel awkward. “Love you, Dave.”
“You too, sis.”