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Fic: Feint
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Summary: Amelia never prays for herself. After all, she chose this.
Contains character death, violence, demonic possession and will be jossed after SPN 10x20!
Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jonjokeat for the beta job!
The first time Amelia kills a girl, she screams.
At least she tries to scream, but the demon possessing her smothers her so effectively that not a single peep comes out.
When her hands wipe off the blood on the dead girl's clothes, Amelia can see that she's Claire's age.
”Shut up,” the demon tells her. ”Or next time it will be your daughter.”
Amelia stays silent after that.
After the warehouse where they had lost Jimmy a second time, she had driven Claire home in their stolen car. The ride had been silent. There wasn't anything to say.
It would have been easier if Jimmy was dead. Mostly it would have been easier on him.
She'd only been possessed for a couple of hours, but it was undoubtedly the worst experience of her life. Not being able to direct the movements of her body, or to speak, not even being able to have a sip of water to alleviate the dryness of her mouth.
She couldn't imagine spending a lifetime like that. But perhaps you got used to it. Perhaps he would.
Claire stirred when the car pulled up and Amelia was relieved that she didn't have to shake her.
She knew what hurting Claire felt like. She knew how soft her daughter's cheek was against the impact of her hand.
It didn't matter that she hadn't directed the movements of her body at the time.
The responsibility belonged to the demon, but the aftermath would be her cross to bear.
It took a few weeks for Amelia to work up the courage, but she'd made up her mind the first night.
In the midst of the shock and confusion of being possessed, she had felt the cruel will of the demon. It was nothing like the stories in the Bible. It didn't tempt her or test her faith. It ruled with absolute brutal force.
She knew demons could be killed, but she didn't know how. She hadn't exactly begged the blood soaked men to stay and educate her.
Her demon was dead, but she knew there were others. They'd been out to get Jimmy, and he was long gone, but the demon possessing her was petty and vengeful. It was only a matter of time before one of its friends came back for vengeance.
She told her mother she was going to sell the house, that she'd be back for Claire when everything was in order. Lying to her mother was easy. Lying to Claire wasn't.
Amelia's cheeks were wet with tears the whole drive home. She comforted herself by picturing Claire as a normal, happy child, before all this started. That's how she wanted to remember her.
When Amelia got home, she settled into her quiet, empty house and began to wait.
Her second demon is calmer than the first. It still has that thirst for violence but is more selective about satisfying it. It appears to be under strict orders, which probably explains the impulse control.
A couple of months in, she's stabbed in the heart. The pain is blinding and for a moment she thinks she's actually dying.
The demon rolls her eyes and calmly pulls the small knife out. Amelia's heart tissue stretches and tugs until the wound is tightly sealed.
It doesn't heal.
She feels it every time the demon bends or turns her body. It feels like it's going to tear open and blood will come gushing out, but she reminds herself it won't happen, and after the first dozen times she stops being afraid.
It's a simple matter of mind over matter. She can't control her body, but she can control how she reacts to it.
She finds that her experience with meditative prayer really helps. In the years between confirmation and becoming a mother, Amelia had spent countless hours contemplating the life of Christ in silence. It had taught her how to turn her focus inwards, how to be a passive observer. She had been thinking about taking up the practice again by the time Jimmy left the first time.
Now, being possessed, she has every opportunity to practice.
She makes sure to pray at least part of the time. Not for herself (she chose this), or for Jimmy, (God chose him) but for Claire.
She prays that her daughter is safe and that she knows she is loved. She prays that Claire does well in school and that she doesn't lose her faith.
But most of all she prays that Claire doesn't think of her or Jimmy too often.
She had been right. You do get used to being possessed.
After a while the physical aches and pains fade into the background. She stops thinking about the last time she ate or the injuries the demon is suppressing. She never quite sleeps but she starts loosing track of time for long stretches, which is kind of what sleep is.
She hears her name called from somewhere in the store. Laurie comes up, pulls Amelia's body into an embrace.
”Oh Ames, I'm so sorry. Where have you been? Why weren't you at the funeral?”
The demon eases its control a little so that Amelia feels the elevated heart beat and the sinking feeling in her stomach.
”I was busy.”
Laurie eases her grip, but doesn't completely let go. ”Amelia, Claire's in foster care. They looked everywhere for you. I know you're hurting, but you have to come home.”
The demon shrugs with Amelia's shoulders and lets her fingers brush against the knife in her pocket. ”I don't have to do anything.”
Laurie removes her hands but doesn't back up. ”Yes, you do. Your daughter doesn't have anyone else. She needs her mother!”
The store is crowded, and Amelia knows the demon can't afford to draw attention to itself. It doesn't kill Laurie, just leans in to whisper a secret.
”I'm not her mother.”
The demon knows it has lost the upper hand. If a detour to find and kill Claire would have been an inconvenience before, now it would be a downright time sink.
Amelia spends the next few weeks in prayer, praying for her mother's entry into heaven and thanking God for keeping Claire safe.
She starts screaming at the murders again.
At some point the demon's grand scheme collapses, and it flees in panic overnight. It ends up in Florida which means a nice change in weather. There's a lot of frantic, hushed chatter among the demons and Amelia pays attention to it between her contemplations on the book of Acts.
Some days she wonders how long she'll be able to keep it up; if the demon will tire of her and find another person to possess. But it appears to have grown fond of Amelia's body and seems to enjoy how it has halted its aging process.
It all ends on the floor of a parking garage. Not a warehouse, but close enough.
There's a couple of burly-looking men, some god awful pronunciation, and then that familiar, brutal tug.
The demon screams all the way out and Amelia sinks to the floor as she suddenly regains control of her body.
She hasn't used her voice in years. ”What year is it?”
The men look uncomfortable, like she's a complication they hadn't expected and don't want to deal with. ”Two thousand and fourteen,” the younger one says. ”April.”
Amelia adds the numbers up in her head. She had kept the demon busy for five years.
Claire is sixteen, almost an adult. You can make it at sixteen.
The sensation returns to her body, all of it pain now.
Amelia calmly lays herself down. The small wound in her heart is open and she feels herself bleed out. She feels herself dying.
It's not so bad.
Summary: Amelia never prays for herself. After all, she chose this.
Contains character death, violence, demonic possession and will be jossed after SPN 10x20!
Thanks to
jonjokeat for the beta job!The first time Amelia kills a girl, she screams.
At least she tries to scream, but the demon possessing her smothers her so effectively that not a single peep comes out.
When her hands wipe off the blood on the dead girl's clothes, Amelia can see that she's Claire's age.
”Shut up,” the demon tells her. ”Or next time it will be your daughter.”
Amelia stays silent after that.
After the warehouse where they had lost Jimmy a second time, she had driven Claire home in their stolen car. The ride had been silent. There wasn't anything to say.
It would have been easier if Jimmy was dead. Mostly it would have been easier on him.
She'd only been possessed for a couple of hours, but it was undoubtedly the worst experience of her life. Not being able to direct the movements of her body, or to speak, not even being able to have a sip of water to alleviate the dryness of her mouth.
She couldn't imagine spending a lifetime like that. But perhaps you got used to it. Perhaps he would.
Claire stirred when the car pulled up and Amelia was relieved that she didn't have to shake her.
She knew what hurting Claire felt like. She knew how soft her daughter's cheek was against the impact of her hand.
It didn't matter that she hadn't directed the movements of her body at the time.
The responsibility belonged to the demon, but the aftermath would be her cross to bear.
It took a few weeks for Amelia to work up the courage, but she'd made up her mind the first night.
In the midst of the shock and confusion of being possessed, she had felt the cruel will of the demon. It was nothing like the stories in the Bible. It didn't tempt her or test her faith. It ruled with absolute brutal force.
She knew demons could be killed, but she didn't know how. She hadn't exactly begged the blood soaked men to stay and educate her.
Her demon was dead, but she knew there were others. They'd been out to get Jimmy, and he was long gone, but the demon possessing her was petty and vengeful. It was only a matter of time before one of its friends came back for vengeance.
She told her mother she was going to sell the house, that she'd be back for Claire when everything was in order. Lying to her mother was easy. Lying to Claire wasn't.
Amelia's cheeks were wet with tears the whole drive home. She comforted herself by picturing Claire as a normal, happy child, before all this started. That's how she wanted to remember her.
When Amelia got home, she settled into her quiet, empty house and began to wait.
Her second demon is calmer than the first. It still has that thirst for violence but is more selective about satisfying it. It appears to be under strict orders, which probably explains the impulse control.
A couple of months in, she's stabbed in the heart. The pain is blinding and for a moment she thinks she's actually dying.
The demon rolls her eyes and calmly pulls the small knife out. Amelia's heart tissue stretches and tugs until the wound is tightly sealed.
It doesn't heal.
She feels it every time the demon bends or turns her body. It feels like it's going to tear open and blood will come gushing out, but she reminds herself it won't happen, and after the first dozen times she stops being afraid.
It's a simple matter of mind over matter. She can't control her body, but she can control how she reacts to it.
She finds that her experience with meditative prayer really helps. In the years between confirmation and becoming a mother, Amelia had spent countless hours contemplating the life of Christ in silence. It had taught her how to turn her focus inwards, how to be a passive observer. She had been thinking about taking up the practice again by the time Jimmy left the first time.
Now, being possessed, she has every opportunity to practice.
She makes sure to pray at least part of the time. Not for herself (she chose this), or for Jimmy, (God chose him) but for Claire.
She prays that her daughter is safe and that she knows she is loved. She prays that Claire does well in school and that she doesn't lose her faith.
But most of all she prays that Claire doesn't think of her or Jimmy too often.
She had been right. You do get used to being possessed.
After a while the physical aches and pains fade into the background. She stops thinking about the last time she ate or the injuries the demon is suppressing. She never quite sleeps but she starts loosing track of time for long stretches, which is kind of what sleep is.
She hears her name called from somewhere in the store. Laurie comes up, pulls Amelia's body into an embrace.
”Oh Ames, I'm so sorry. Where have you been? Why weren't you at the funeral?”
The demon eases its control a little so that Amelia feels the elevated heart beat and the sinking feeling in her stomach.
”I was busy.”
Laurie eases her grip, but doesn't completely let go. ”Amelia, Claire's in foster care. They looked everywhere for you. I know you're hurting, but you have to come home.”
The demon shrugs with Amelia's shoulders and lets her fingers brush against the knife in her pocket. ”I don't have to do anything.”
Laurie removes her hands but doesn't back up. ”Yes, you do. Your daughter doesn't have anyone else. She needs her mother!”
The store is crowded, and Amelia knows the demon can't afford to draw attention to itself. It doesn't kill Laurie, just leans in to whisper a secret.
”I'm not her mother.”
The demon knows it has lost the upper hand. If a detour to find and kill Claire would have been an inconvenience before, now it would be a downright time sink.
Amelia spends the next few weeks in prayer, praying for her mother's entry into heaven and thanking God for keeping Claire safe.
She starts screaming at the murders again.
At some point the demon's grand scheme collapses, and it flees in panic overnight. It ends up in Florida which means a nice change in weather. There's a lot of frantic, hushed chatter among the demons and Amelia pays attention to it between her contemplations on the book of Acts.
Some days she wonders how long she'll be able to keep it up; if the demon will tire of her and find another person to possess. But it appears to have grown fond of Amelia's body and seems to enjoy how it has halted its aging process.
It all ends on the floor of a parking garage. Not a warehouse, but close enough.
There's a couple of burly-looking men, some god awful pronunciation, and then that familiar, brutal tug.
The demon screams all the way out and Amelia sinks to the floor as she suddenly regains control of her body.
She hasn't used her voice in years. ”What year is it?”
The men look uncomfortable, like she's a complication they hadn't expected and don't want to deal with. ”Two thousand and fourteen,” the younger one says. ”April.”
Amelia adds the numbers up in her head. She had kept the demon busy for five years.
Claire is sixteen, almost an adult. You can make it at sixteen.
The sensation returns to her body, all of it pain now.
Amelia calmly lays herself down. The small wound in her heart is open and she feels herself bleed out. She feels herself dying.
It's not so bad.