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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A/N: Poe'll have occasional flashbacks to Hell and the torture there which may or may not get graphic depending on how it goes, I'll toss up gore or body horror warnings when it happens.

Dying hadn’t hurt. Not much. Not in comparison to this. This.

Hell.

Hell, Hell hurt. Hell hurt a lot. Poe couldn’t quantify his pain, couldn’t describe it. Most of the time the pain didn’t even take visual form, it was something that came over his soul. A body could be ignored. Your mind could shy away from your pain, you could pass out, you could distract yourself. You could get used to it.

Poe’d had his body broken before. By ghosts, by monsters, even by demonically possessed humans.

But his mind, except for once, his mind had always been his own.

You couldn’t even scream in hell. Or, you could, when the demon torturing you wanted you to, when they wanted you to consider your pain physical instead of a scrape and thrust and breaking of your soul. When they wanted to trick you, appeal to you, when they wanted you to think it could end.

When they wanted to laugh at you, at your gibbering.

Poe knew the body they gave him was a trick, a falsehood. His real body had already been torn apart. His real body had, hopefully, been cremated and his ashes scattered.

It still hurt.

I LOVE THIS!
Great work with the hell flasback, you've really got Poe's voice down.

- op

I don't know anything about Supernatural (something about sad sexy bros and a gay angel driving around in a muscle car solving mysteries???) but I find all of this very intriguing!

That's really all you need to now about Supernatural.

Thanks!

He wasn’t supposed to be alive. He knew this. Poe blinked rainwater out of his eyes and stared at a dark grey sky. The rain, it stung, and he… he sat up and took a breath.

His chest hurt.

He took another breath, this one deeper, and he tasted… he tasted rain on his tongue and he tasted the salt and the crispness of the trees around him. He could smell… smoke. It made him flinch and the rough outcropping he was seated on cut into the skin of his palms.

He lifted his hands and stared at the blood.

The phone at Dex’s Diner (owned by Luke Skywalker, formerly owned by Ben Kenobi, formerly owned by Dex) was Rey’s only source of entertainment most days. There was only so much fun one could have with dusty old tomes and hours of drilling. There was only so much entertainment to be found in the crusty hunters who wanted into Dex’s in search of ammunition or information or just a hard drink. Sometimes Rey got to be their shoulder to cry on as they unloaded horror stories of dead friends or family, sometimes Rey got to hear about the goory horrific hunts they had just got back from.

Hunts that lead to the death of creatures she, literally, had only ever read about.

Luke didn’t leave Dex’s often. If there was ghost trouble close by (two days drive at most) he’d go for a salt and burn, but only if no one else was available. They’d killed a shapeshifter last year and a nest of vampires a few months ago… but only because they’d been close. Luke was reluctant to leave the diner.

He said the other hunters needed him, and they did, Rey wouldn’t deny that, but they didn’t need her.

But leaving them wasn’t something Rey was ready to do yet. Not yet. Soon. Once she found the right fight… yeah, she’d be ready. She had the Impala repaired and improved and while it wouldn’t be the same as it had been… well, she only had childhood memories to rely on there, didn’t she? And her childhood memories were unreliable at best.

“Dex’s Diner, open 24 hours a day, no we’re not affiliated with Dex’s-diner-dot-com, the owner’s out right now, may I help you?”

And then, a voice Rey hadn’t heard in years and could never have expected.

“Rey?”

The most annoying thing about Poe’s resurrection, once he got past the fact that he had been resurrected (or, really, once he started ignoring that, he had to or his mind simply shut down) was the fact that he had been resurrected naked on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was a nice place for someone to have dumped his ashes, Poe guessed, but it was a fucking terribly place to come back to life (don’t think about it, don’t think about it, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT) naked.

His feet, by the time he found civilization, were bloodied messes. His hands as well. He had scratches up and down his legs and arms and the only reason he’d gotten out of the forest without a mark on his junk was by moving very carefully. He wasn’t really surprised that the first person who saw him had screamed and called the police.

He was just grateful that they’d been doing laundry that day and, after answering the door and seeing Poe’s naked form, had dumped their laundry basket all over Poe and the front porch. Sure, the clothes didn’t smell great, and they didn’t fit quite right but… but Poe would take what he could get.

Man, he missed his jacket.

Not that he’d have gotten his jacket back if he’d been resurrected wearing the clothes he had died in (what would they have dressed him in at the cremation? Hell if he knew, hell… hell… DON’ THINK ABOUT IT) he’d put all of his clothes in a church donation box the day before his contract came up.

He’d never intended to fight the contract.

There was ringing in his ears.

No, not ringing, a screaming, Poe couldn’t… he fell to his knees and clutched his head. He… he needed… he might have screamed, he couldn’t tell, there wasn’t… the glass of the abandoned gas station he’d broken into shattered. Dust and anything looters had ignored shook off the shelves and crashed into the ground.

If shit falls to the ground and the only person around to hear is in agonizing aural pain, does it make a sound?

Poe laughed, even as he screamed.

It’s not like anyone would hear.

The screaming (ringing, bells, a sound like discordant glass bells being smashed together for eternity) stopped.

Eventually.

“Thank god.”

It was the closest he’d come to prayer in a long time.

Yo, Supernatural-clueless anon here, still enjoying every part you post of this fill!

Love what you have so far! <3

Rey wasn’t sure what to expect. She… well, to be honest, she’d thought it was a trick, a trap, a ghost in the wires or a demonic possession or some kind of creature that lured you in with false hope. It was why she hadn’t told Luke. It was why she hadn’t called Leia. It was why she had flipped the diner’s sign to ‘closed’ (a rarity), wrote Luke the shortest note possible, and had loaded the car for bear.

The drive hadn’t even taken her outside of Luke’s 2-day hunt radius. They’d scattered Poe’s ashes as close to home as they could, after all. As close to the only place he’d really called home.

She didn’t expect… well.

She stared at Poe from behind a line of road salt. He wore corduroy pants that rode up to expose his ankles, the hem spotted was blood. His feet were wrapped in paper towels that didn’t hide his dirty toes. He wore a pink sequined tank top underneath a man’s blue and white striped nightshirt. He looked, in short, a mess. His hair hung in curls around his face, black, shot through with grey.

She never remembered him looking so tired.

--

“So.” They’re seated beside each other in the Impala, after Poe had passed all the possible tests Rey could think of, tossing things back and forth across the salt line until she agreed he could step over it. Poe’s honestly kind of surprised he had passed all of the tests. He had been waiting to find out that he wasn’t really Poe Dameron, that he was a messed in the head shapestealer or some kind of creature they’d never encountered before. He supposed they could still be a creature they’d never encountered before and he wouldn’t know it.

Because he wouldn’t know it.

He had such a headache.

Rey glared at the steering wheel clenched between her hands. “So.”

The red light hung over them, a baleful eye in the darkness.

It was totally mocking them.

Poe sighed. “So… how’re-”

Rey swung around to face him angry, her finger up and pointed right at his face. Poe flinched. (A needle slammed into his eye through to his brain and he couldn’t die, couldn’t die, couldn’t…)

“How dare you.” Rey wasn’t one for shouting, instead her voice had gone icy cold, low, and very, very dangerous. “How dare you ask me ‘how’re things’ like, like you… like you went on vacation or something. How dare you fucking sell your soul for, for what? What the hell did you think you were getting out of it?”

She had a point.

Poe looked at his hands. His fingernails were disgusting, chipped, with dirt trapped underneath. His knuckles were scraped raw. He flexed his fingers.

Tried not to think about the sensation of them breaking, something he had unfortunately dealt with both in life and death.

“Safety.”

Rey huffed.

“For ten years, Luke, Leia, and you… you guys were safe.” Relatively speaking, anyway, the demon had said he couldn’t ensure that the three of them wouldn’t seek out trouble that would get them killed. But for ten years… for ten years no skeletons in the closet had rattled their bones, no creatures had directly called them out, no secrets or hitmen or government agents or…

Or demons seeking the right host.

Rey scoffed. “We were hardly safe.”

The light turned green and the car purred as it cruised through town. Poe turned to look at the window and marveled at… at people. And sure, it was rural as all hell but people were still out after dark and there were… there were so many of them. Or at least, it seemed like that.

People.

“How’s Beebee?”

He caught the reflection of Rey rolling her eyes in the glass. “Are you sure you didn’t trade your soul in for your damn cat? They’re fine. You haven’t even been dead - KRIFFING SHIT.”

She slammed on the breaks.

A young black man was frozen in the headlights. His eyes were wide and reflective, like a deer, and he was wearing…

“Hey,” Poe hurriedly rolled down the window. The young man was already running. “That’s my jacket!”

Yessss, the jacket!

Great!!!

When Rey woke up yesterday morning this was not how she had expected things to go. For one, a man who was practically her brother had come back from the dead. (Maybe, possibly, she still wasn’t convinced.) Two, she and Poe were now chasing down a very fast man through a graveyard. Because… because why not.

“Didn’t you,” she dodged the stone arm of a judgmental angel, “give all of your clothes to…” she saved herself before she tripped over a vase full of flowers, “good will or something?”

Poe leapt over a gravestone. “Well, yeah, but…” he paused, frowned, looked around. “…where’d he go?”
She’s got her gun out but Poe’s still wandering around in stolen clothes and no shoes. Not even a flashlight to his name. It takes her seconds (still too long) to catch up to him and press her back against his.

They circle slowly. The graveyard isn’t really a good place to hide in. Even at night, the streetlights give most of it plenty of visibility. The shadows thrown on the walls of the church are all stationary.

The shadow of wings from an angel spread on the church wall and Rey cursed. “What the fuck?!”

Poe pointed.

The young man stood in the center of the shadowy wings. He… there wasn’t really a way around this. He had a presence. The kind of thing Rey had heard powerful creatures had but not something she’d experienced. Unless you counted Leia and Luke, of course. His face was oddly blank and his head was cocked to the side, like a bird.

Rey wasn’t sure bullets would hurt him but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Poe Dameron.” The thing wearing a man’s body spoke (unless it was a thing impersonating a man, no way was that just a regular guy). Beside her, Poe jolted. “I’m glad you’re…”

Rey fired. Because. Because… because fuck that. Fuck that, fuck whatever this thing was, fuck…

Her gun clicked empty.

“What?”

She tried again.

The thing smiled and Rey was pissed. “I removed the-”

Well if bullets wouldn’t work she had knives. She threw her favorite (the Falcon, she called it jokingly) and it hit the guy in the chest with a satisfying thunk.

“Rey…” Poe grabbed her arm.

The creature grasped the knife and pulled it out. It was spotless, not a drop of blood on it. He, it (she thought to herself, it) studied the knife with a frown. “The craftsmanship is excellent.” He, it, said, and… offered it back to Rey, hilt first.

Rey stared.

He stared back.

When Rey made no move to walk towards him he took a few, tentative, steps toward them. The shadow of wings was gone. “I’m sorry,” he said, and with each step he didn’t become more human but he became… less daunting, “I should have introduced myself.” He continued to offer Rey her knife.

Rey waited, another clutched in her hand.

“I’m Tsaphinael.” It said calmly.

“An angel of the lord.”

“…” Poe took a breath. “Nope.”

He threw his hands up in the air and walked off. “Nope.”

Getting out of the graveyard was easier going than getting into it had been, for one he was no longer moving at breakneck speed, for another he knew the way. “Nope!”

Angels were, shit, angels were shit. Angels were the kind of shit his mother had sung him songs about, her lips pressed against his head, her arms wrapped around him. He’d had a picture of a ‘guardian angel’ hung above his bed. A cherubic face with wings.

Such utter shit.

“NOPE!”

Following Poe out of the graveyard was easy, even if he had a head start. It was a bare one, Rey had stayed behind to watch the angel and guard Poe’s back (well, sort of, she’d been planning a confrontation of her own) when between one blink and the next the angel just… vanished. Poof. Gone. She’d seen a lot of creatures… alright, she’d read a lot about the creatures that went bump in the dark and could appear to vanish before your eyes. But the angel really did seem to have just… vanished.

Poof.

It was weird.

The ‘angel’, if that’s what he had been, hadn’t even tried to… to do anything. Usually monsters attacked first and asked questions (or lied through their teeth) second.

Unless they were demons.

He, it, was probably a demon.

“Poe.” Rey grabbed at the edge of his shirt, it slipped from her grasp and she couldn’t, not now, not right… “Poe!”

“Think I can charm my way into a bar?” Poe said, eyes on a dingy looking corner pub crawling with people in team colors. What team, and what sport, Rey had no idea.

“I think that you can charm your way into anything.” It was true enough. Poe had always been charming. Being dead probably wouldn’t have changed that. Maybe. “But I’d be the one paying.”

Poe smiled at her, all charm… except, when Rey met his gaze, there was a deadness to his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Hopelessness. Pain. He looked like he needed a drink. Rey sighed and checked to be sure her wallet was in her pocket.

“I’ll buy you a drink, but I doubt they’ll let you in there without shoes.”

They let him in.

Of course they let him in.

It had more to do with no one watching the door. This wasn’t the kind of place that had bouncers, this was the kind of neighborhood bar where everyone knew just about everyone else but no one cared much if you were new. It was busy and noisy and no one was looking at Poe’s feet. Most of them had their eyes glued to the televisions stationed around the bar. Two in opposite corners, two on opposite sides of the bar. Rey could recognize the game as basketball and, if she squinted, would have been able to make out the team names. She didn’t much care, however, and instead paid attention to shoving crowding sportsfans out of the way so she could order two of whatever was cheapest on tap.

She wasn’t made of money. And compared to Chewbacca’s home brew everything was going to taste like piss.

Poe shifted next to her.

“So,” it’s hard for some people to talk over the noise, hard to find the right level of ‘loud enough’ and ‘not too loud’ but Rey was raised at Dex’s and it’s second nature to her, “we’re going to need to call them.”

There wasn’t any question about who ‘they’ were.

Poe nodded, not happily, and took the beer from the bartender with a lukewarm smile. His first sip made him gag and Rey laughed… until she took her own first sip.

“This is awful.” Poe said with a laugh, he took another sip, then a swallow. “I…”

The television behind Poe’s head turned to static, to disappointed groans and shouts from the crowd. Poe turned look, Rey pushed onto her tip toes and…

The TV behind them went out, in the corners, static all around, quick, sudden, like a thunderclap except… except really annoying aurally. The bar goers shouted angrily, pushed, shoved. Poe’s eyes were wide. “Something-” wrong? She was going to ask. But then the whine started, a high whine that cut through the chatter of the bar. A whine that made everyone, including Poe, clutch at their head.

It grew.

And grew. Glasses shattered, dropped from hands to hit the floor, glasses on the bar exploded, alcohol of all colors ran together to drip on the floor.

Had to be a monster. Or a weird technical malfunction. Rey glanced at Poe.

He grimaced, hands still clasped to his head, and shoved his way towards the door.

The sound stopped.

Poe walked away from the bar. He wasn’t… you know, he just wasn’t anything at the moment. He certainly wasn’t surprised when the ‘angel’ appeared (without even a flash of light) at his side and fell into step. “So.” He took a breath of the cool night air. “That noise is you, huh?”

Demons are good at pretending to be human. They’re very, very good at it, they can fake all the right human emotions even though (when the pretense falls away) they really only feel the dark ones. Tsaphinael, when Poe turned to look at him, was curiously blank. Inhumanly blank, perhaps.

“You’re supposed to be able to hear me.” The angel said and if Poe hadn’t been looking he would have missed the way Tsaphinael almost bit his lip. An impulsive gesture, a nervous tic. “But obviously you can’t.”

‘Where did that body come from’, Poe wanted to ask, ‘what do you really want?’ But this wasn’t the place for either question. He saw Rey emerge from the bar over Tsaphinael’s shoulder along with any patrons who had been unpleasantly shocked into sobriety by pain and surprise. He motions that she should approach with caution and, despite the fact she rolled her eyes at him, she did slow down.

“What should I call you?” Poe asked, instead of the questions burning on his tongue.

The angel frowned. “I told you my name was Tsaphinael.”

He sounded hesitant.

Demons were pretty good at faking emotions, they were, but rarely did they ever decide to go with timid. It wasn’t in their playbook. Poe found it hard to imagine that angels were often timid, and he decided that if a demon was faking it as an angel it likely wouldn’t either. Which put him in a tricky position, either this was an incredibly tricky monster or it really was an angel.

He.

Tsaphinael.

“Yeah, but that’s… it’s a long name. And people are going to look at us funny.” They’d be getting enough second looks just for being black and brown and out at night. Not to mention in the company of a young white woman. “They don’t have nicknames up in heaven?”

Tsaphinael looked up at the sky. “No.”
Well. Poe hadn’t really figured they did.

“How about Finn?” Poe asked, before he could stop himself. “Good human name, Finn.”

And that moment, when Finn looked into his eyes was when Poe knew he made a mistake. It wasn’t a demon looking back at him but… “Finn.” Finn smiled, bright as the sun and with eyes that twinkled like Christmas lights. “I like it.”

Poe could easily recognize the fluttering swoop inside of him, the first step to getting his heart broken (and in some cases, his head cracked) but it wasn’t like he could control it. Emotions were emotions. There was only so much meditation could suppress.

“Tell me you didn’t name him.” Rey groaned.

Finn turned and gave her the starlight sparkling smile as well. “I’m Finn.”

--------

SOOOOOOO. Unless I get up to writing a sequel, this is where the story ends for me. I figure that Finn's actually pretty opposed to Heaven's plan for the Skywalkers (and actually Heaven's plan for the Skywalkers has already been fucked over given that the angels didn't accurately plot out humanity's time table and now everything is fucked) and he actually jumped ship and pulled Poe out of hell WAY before he was supposed to which is going to make a shit storm but also keep Hell from being broken open. BECAUSE WHY NOT I ASK YOU.

THIS IS AMAZING

I'd love it if you wrote more!

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PROMPT POST #4

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