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Character: Madison gen
Rating: R
Word Count: 816
Warnings: some gore
Disclaimer: Don't own, still broke
Notes: written for
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The summer before her mother died, when Madison was twelve, her family traveled to New York to celebrate her grandfather’s seventy fifth birthday. On the third day of the weeklong trip, on a bright Saturday morning in July, Madison took her little brother’s hand, sticky with the remnants of cotton candy, and walked right along the first patch of shoreline at Coney Island, her Mary Janes clutched tight in her free hand as she dug her toes into warm sand. She rode the Cyclone tucked tight to her grandfather’s side and only blushed a little when he chuckled at her squeals. She smiled eagerly when her father channeled his college baseball years and won her a stuffed zebra that she named Oreo.
Yet it was a memory from later in the day that she remembered most. Madison gulped her Coca-Cola down greedily to cool her thirst from the activity of the humid day, the sweet flavor rushing over her taste buds like a salve. Her mother leaned over, sweat beaded lightly on her powdered brow, and handed Madison a single corn dog from Nathan’s with a wink.
“Only one, honey, don’t want to get sick,” her mother insisted and smoothed a hand over Madison’s long chestnut hair.
“Yes, Mama.”
Madison dabbed a bit of mustard on the treat and bit down into the crunchy outside until the juices from the dog exploded and coated her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed and let the heat of the sun wash over her as her mother’s hand laid light and protective on her shoulder.
Madison liked to remember that moment later, when she looked out at the late autumn Bay Area rain through the smudged glass of her mother’s hospital room.
+++++
There was one horrific moment when Madison was stuck between worlds in her own little Grimm fairytale. That thin median between Beauty and Beast when her senses were still strong but her teeth were no longer daggers. The transformation was disorienting to say the least and coming back to herself in an alley way with ripped clothing was bad enough without all of the blood.
She pressed her back to the brick wall next to the dumpster, god only knows what soaking her shredded pants, and shook so badly her teeth chattered. Her eyes widened as she fixated on the mutilated body in front of her and when she tried to cry out, no sound came out. Her throat felt like acid had been poured down it, but it was nothing compared to what the throat of the dead man in front of her looked like.
She lifted one hand to push the hair back from her face and that’s when she noticed it. A piece of flesh, perhaps part of an organ, or even a windpipe, was impaled on her finger. Like a corn dog on a stick, salt and juice.
She screamed but the sound was wretched and stilted. She screamed again anyway, because it was the only thing she could think to do. She bashed her hand against the brick until the blood from her knuckles intermingled with the blood of the man. Until she couldn’t tell where she stopped and he began. It almost made her feel better.
“Mama,” she sobbed, and there was finally a real sound, pure and strong and damned.
She sat in the alley until she couldn’t cry any longer and went to call Sam Winchester from the pay phone on the corner.
+++++
She hadn’t known what to expect after she asked Sam to pull the trigger. She had thought that maybe the goodness of her intentions would overcome the monstrosity she had become and grant her salvation. Instead she floated in this never-ending limbo, a soul without a body, surrounded by a cacophony of sounds. Babies cried, wolves howled, creatures hissed. She couldn’t understand how she heard any of these noises, since she no longer had ears.
Her every moment was a loop of two memories, cobbled together like a roll of old film. The crunch of a corn dog melded into the tight coil of flesh wrapped around her finger. Ran together until they became one memory and she tasted iron in the mouth she no longer possessed.
After an unknown amount of time waiting on this treadmill of sin (it could have been one day, it could have been a thousand years) she felt a pull at the edge of her formless being. A roaring sound like a tornado rushed over her and in one moment of hysterical euphoria she felt like Dorothy being whisked off to a land full of color and magic.
No more waiting, she chanted without a voice. I am saved.
The soul of a monster who used to go by the name of Madison joined a million others in a nuclear-fueled heavenly army.
I’m coming, Mama, she smiled.
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Date: 2011-06-13 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-13 09:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-13 09:36 pm (UTC)But hey, I have a Jensen icon now! Wheeeee!!!
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Date: 2011-06-14 03:13 am (UTC)**nuclear fueled heavenly army
Two fics, and this is the only error I've found yet. It needs a hyphen. Nuclear-fueled.
The beginning is beautifully done. If she weren't already an incredibly sympathetic character in canon, you'd have made her so with this. And the ending... you know, all this canon I've absorbed, and it hadn't occurred to me that Madison's soul was in purgatory. It makes me a little sad, because she was a good, strong, interesting person who made the right choice at the end, and she never got her happy ending. You've given her one here though.
That's it, I'm friending you whether you like it or not. I need to read your bigbangs.
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Date: 2011-06-14 03:21 am (UTC)Actually when I got the prompt, the first thing I thought of was that Madison was in purgatory and wouldn't it be interesting if she was one of the million souls that Cas sucked up. And then I realized how sad it was that someone that was most likely an inherently good person her whole life got damned for something that was completely beyond her control.
Damn, this show is sad! *sob*
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Date: 2011-06-15 10:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-16 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-16 11:57 am (UTC)I love your prose style; it's achy and atmospheric and wistful. You give all these charming details in the beginning (like the cotton-candy fingers, Oreo the zebra and Madison's Mary Janes) and yet, by opening with The summer before her mother died everything is already painted in muted colors.
I also like how you switch from this family-centered, peaceful scene to the visceral violence of Madison's werewolf side and how it affects her, and your ending perfectly integrates not only the beginning of your story but also current canon.
One especially beautiful line, which is a good example of what I love about this fic:
Her every moment was a loop of two memories, cobbled together like a roll of old film. The crunch of a corn dog melded into the tight coil of flesh wrapped around her finger. Ran together until they became one memory and she tasted iron in the mouth she no longer possessed.
Again: thank you so much.
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Date: 2011-06-16 05:18 pm (UTC)Anyway, thanks again for the prompt and the thoughtful comment! <3
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Date: 2011-06-18 12:21 pm (UTC)I was going to cheapen the moment by saying something crass like 'at least she would have had the memory of a plowing from Sam to keep her warm in Purgatory', but I'll restrain myself...oh...hang on....
:D
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Date: 2011-07-02 06:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-02 05:34 pm (UTC)