let me hear your voice tonight (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alexseanchai) wrote2012-02-06 07:00 pm
alexseanchai) wrote2012-02-06 07:00 pm
Entry tags:
all my innocence is wasted on the dead and dreaming
Title: all my innocence is wasted on the dead and dreaming
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Emma lives. Fixit fic to Supernatural 7x13 "The Slice Girls".
Pairings: Mention of Dean/Lydia and Emma/OMCs.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 920
Emma wakes.
When Sam shot her, she knew, that was it, lights out. She'd failed her mother, her sisters, her people.
But Emma wakes.
First things first: get away from the crime scene. Emma buttons her overshirts to hide the bloodstains, picks up the knife her father didn't take with him, and runs. There's no hole in the back of her shirt, so at some point she'll have to get the bullet out of her insides. She'll worry about that later.
Emma checks her mother's home, Charlene's, Madeline's, everywhere her people could possibly be; they're gone. They left her for dead.
No one expected Emma to do her duty.
Emma goes back to her mother's house and collects everything valuable left lying around. Mom's laptop and cell phone she keeps. The jewelry she'll sell at a pawn shop, except for a couple pieces she'll keep solely because, in the past few days, her mother was wearing them. Her people must have been in a hurry to get out of town to leave all this behind.
The other houses yield similar bounties, and different pawn shops mean no one will look at Emma like a thief.
Emma sleeps the night in her mother's bed, the bed where she was conceived, and tries not to remember the scene through her mother's eyes. Ew. Seriously, ew.
The next morning, Emma takes her mother's car and leaves Seattle.
In Ellensburg, Emma sets up housekeeping in a shabby motel for a week while she sorts out the inside of her head. Important to her mother: their people and their goal. Important to her father: his brother and his goal.
Important to Emma?
Emma's mother's people abandoned her. Emma's father's brother tried to kill her.
There isn't a great deal Emma can do to spite her mother and her people from the position of 'left for dead'. But the only thing that matters to Dean Winchester, other than Sam's safety, is killing Dick Roman.
Well. Emma will just have to kill Dick first.
Next question: how?
Emma moves on to Walla Walla to scour her father's memories of things that could possibly kill a leviathan. There's a long list of can'ts. Leviathans are older than archangels and the Colt can't kill archangels, even if she could find the Colt, which is worth trying though it's likely a fool's errand; a toy like that would come in handy if she encounters anything else unpleasant.
But leviathans bleed black goo. Eve—so that's why Lydia and her sisters spent several months last year failing to keep each other from killing anyone; their goals are not aided by random murders—bled black goo.
Phoenix ash burns the Mother.
Phoenix ash is obtained by going back in time, to before phoenixes were extinct, and shooting them with the Colt.
(How did Colt know phoenix ash burns the Mother, anyway?)
Emma Googles up spells to find what is lost, experiments until she finds one that works, focuses on the memory of the Colt in Dean's hand as he kills the demon that killed Emma's grandmother, and follows her dowsing stick from Washington to Missouri.
Carthage is in the process of being rebuilt. Someone found the gun and took it to their new home as a keepsake. Emma breaks in, silent as a mouse, and steals the gun and bullets.
Now to learn how to shoot the thing. Emma has her father's muscle memory, but her father stands six foot one and Emma does not.
Emma takes the gun to a gunsmith and has the woman custom-make a hundred bullets. They won't kill anything that can't be killed by an ordinary slug—probably—but they're good enough to practice with.
Now the hard part. The time travel. "Hello?" Emma asks the sky one night. "Angels? Anyone who follows Castiel? I'm Emma Winchester, Dean's daughter. I need your help."
"I am Jael," says a woman who had very much not been there a moment ago. "How may I help the Savior's daughter?"
"It's about the leviathans," Emma says. "Daddy's looking for a way to kill them, and I think I know how, but I have to time-travel to do it." She explains. "Don't tell him," she adds. "Or Uncle Sam. I want to surprise them."
Jael is delighted to be of assistance.
Emma tracks down and picks off every phoenix in a two-hundred-year radius, and returns to the present with bags and bags of ashes. Then it's just a matter of mixing the ashes with water, filling SuperSoakers, and tracking down the leviathans.
When she says it like that, it sounds so simple.
What Emma needs is an army.
It's been two years, though it's only been two months. Time travel is perplexing that way. Emma's old enough to conceive a child.
Sex is boring.
Childbirth hurts.
Emma's in a different town every week, trailing an ever-increasing number of ducklings; she goes straight down the 2010 behindthename.com popular female names list. Isabella. Sophia. Olivia. Ava. None of them have killed their fathers. Emily. Madison. Chloe. Mia. Emma can't afford to draw attention. Elizabeth. Ella. Natalie. Alexis. As though a crowd of teenage girls piled into a single motel room doesn't draw attention. Lily. Grace. Hailey. Alyssa. But Emma's daughters are strong and brave and know everything Emma does. Hannah. Leah. Ashley. Sarah.
At twenty, Emma stops. She has had quite enough sex for the rest of her life thank you very much.
Twenty-one Amazons and one guardian angel can take on the world.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Emma lives. Fixit fic to Supernatural 7x13 "The Slice Girls".
Pairings: Mention of Dean/Lydia and Emma/OMCs.
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 920
Emma wakes.
When Sam shot her, she knew, that was it, lights out. She'd failed her mother, her sisters, her people.
But Emma wakes.
First things first: get away from the crime scene. Emma buttons her overshirts to hide the bloodstains, picks up the knife her father didn't take with him, and runs. There's no hole in the back of her shirt, so at some point she'll have to get the bullet out of her insides. She'll worry about that later.
Emma checks her mother's home, Charlene's, Madeline's, everywhere her people could possibly be; they're gone. They left her for dead.
No one expected Emma to do her duty.
Emma goes back to her mother's house and collects everything valuable left lying around. Mom's laptop and cell phone she keeps. The jewelry she'll sell at a pawn shop, except for a couple pieces she'll keep solely because, in the past few days, her mother was wearing them. Her people must have been in a hurry to get out of town to leave all this behind.
The other houses yield similar bounties, and different pawn shops mean no one will look at Emma like a thief.
Emma sleeps the night in her mother's bed, the bed where she was conceived, and tries not to remember the scene through her mother's eyes. Ew. Seriously, ew.
The next morning, Emma takes her mother's car and leaves Seattle.
In Ellensburg, Emma sets up housekeeping in a shabby motel for a week while she sorts out the inside of her head. Important to her mother: their people and their goal. Important to her father: his brother and his goal.
Important to Emma?
Emma's mother's people abandoned her. Emma's father's brother tried to kill her.
There isn't a great deal Emma can do to spite her mother and her people from the position of 'left for dead'. But the only thing that matters to Dean Winchester, other than Sam's safety, is killing Dick Roman.
Well. Emma will just have to kill Dick first.
Next question: how?
Emma moves on to Walla Walla to scour her father's memories of things that could possibly kill a leviathan. There's a long list of can'ts. Leviathans are older than archangels and the Colt can't kill archangels, even if she could find the Colt, which is worth trying though it's likely a fool's errand; a toy like that would come in handy if she encounters anything else unpleasant.
But leviathans bleed black goo. Eve—so that's why Lydia and her sisters spent several months last year failing to keep each other from killing anyone; their goals are not aided by random murders—bled black goo.
Phoenix ash burns the Mother.
Phoenix ash is obtained by going back in time, to before phoenixes were extinct, and shooting them with the Colt.
(How did Colt know phoenix ash burns the Mother, anyway?)
Emma Googles up spells to find what is lost, experiments until she finds one that works, focuses on the memory of the Colt in Dean's hand as he kills the demon that killed Emma's grandmother, and follows her dowsing stick from Washington to Missouri.
Carthage is in the process of being rebuilt. Someone found the gun and took it to their new home as a keepsake. Emma breaks in, silent as a mouse, and steals the gun and bullets.
Now to learn how to shoot the thing. Emma has her father's muscle memory, but her father stands six foot one and Emma does not.
Emma takes the gun to a gunsmith and has the woman custom-make a hundred bullets. They won't kill anything that can't be killed by an ordinary slug—probably—but they're good enough to practice with.
Now the hard part. The time travel. "Hello?" Emma asks the sky one night. "Angels? Anyone who follows Castiel? I'm Emma Winchester, Dean's daughter. I need your help."
"I am Jael," says a woman who had very much not been there a moment ago. "How may I help the Savior's daughter?"
"It's about the leviathans," Emma says. "Daddy's looking for a way to kill them, and I think I know how, but I have to time-travel to do it." She explains. "Don't tell him," she adds. "Or Uncle Sam. I want to surprise them."
Jael is delighted to be of assistance.
Emma tracks down and picks off every phoenix in a two-hundred-year radius, and returns to the present with bags and bags of ashes. Then it's just a matter of mixing the ashes with water, filling SuperSoakers, and tracking down the leviathans.
When she says it like that, it sounds so simple.
What Emma needs is an army.
It's been two years, though it's only been two months. Time travel is perplexing that way. Emma's old enough to conceive a child.
Sex is boring.
Childbirth hurts.
Emma's in a different town every week, trailing an ever-increasing number of ducklings; she goes straight down the 2010 behindthename.com popular female names list. Isabella. Sophia. Olivia. Ava. None of them have killed their fathers. Emily. Madison. Chloe. Mia. Emma can't afford to draw attention. Elizabeth. Ella. Natalie. Alexis. As though a crowd of teenage girls piled into a single motel room doesn't draw attention. Lily. Grace. Hailey. Alyssa. But Emma's daughters are strong and brave and know everything Emma does. Hannah. Leah. Ashley. Sarah.
At twenty, Emma stops. She has had quite enough sex for the rest of her life thank you very much.
Twenty-one Amazons and one guardian angel can take on the world.