#AND THEN WAS COLD AND INDIFFERENT TO THE FACT THAT /HE/ MADE FAMILIES COLLATERAL DAMAGE

[screechingfromthevoid]

Something that I love about orym is his refusal to play ludinus' game. He said one (1) thing about his family. "Cold comfort for my family in the ground" and promptly never indulged him again. Because if you give people the space and the room and the decency to explain their point, you're treating it as if it's a real option. And orym never really considered it to be a real option.

So he didn't indulge him. He said fuck you I hate you and that was that. He didn't care about motives or trying to make ludinus feel bad or sway him any which way. Orym saw what ludinus was and refused to treat him with any seriousness. Because he was wrong. From the beginning to the end.

[okimargarvez]

METEOROLOGY- Wind

Original title: Meteorology.

Prompt: climatic metaphors, phases of love.

Warning: none.

Genre: drama, romantic, comedy, angst, family, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team, Phil (Luke’s partner), Phil’s wife, Roxy, Derek Morgan.

Pairing: Garvez, Phil x Lucille.

Note: Multichapter.

Legend: 💏😘😈👓🔦🐶❗👨‍👩‍👧‍👦💍🎈.

Song mentioned: Via con me, Paolo Conte.

Meteorology- Masterlist

MY OTHER GARVEZ STORIES

WIND

Distance makes to the love what the wind does to the fire: turns off the little, unleash the big. (Roger de Bussy-Rabutin)

 Not this time. You don't pretend it does not hurt. On the bedside you find her ring, engraved with your name to ' internal. A pause is an understatement, this sounds a lot more like a farewell. It's not the first time that you are in crisis, indeed. But it is the first since you are married. It's similar, but it's very different. It's terribly serious. And you haven’t even had a fight: she did everything. She misinterpreted your words and then made the suitcases.

Every day you contemplate her absence. Even Roxy is disappointed. For a week she refused to touch food. You take her to the vet, but when you explain to have been break up, he recommends you may want to wait a little longer, because your dog looks great, she's not sick. She feels only the lack of her mistress.

Each object reminds you of her and you do nothing to prevent the feelings overwhelm you in full. You consume least two handkerchiefs a day. You cry like you haven't done since you were a child and gradually you realize that these tears aren't only spilled for your wife, but also for your mother and your father. And for Phil, for what happened and for the children than ever you'll have. When you're at home you spend hours in front of the bookcase, fingering the covers of her favorite novels. Many of these you bought them for her.; perhaps exactly for this reason she has brought them with her. In fact, most of the personal effects of Penelope is still here: this would be consistent with her version that this is just a pause, a time to pull the plug. But the fear of losing her is really too big. And then you step one by one the ornaments, recalling for each one the story linked to it. This little airplane, for example, it relates to a case in Wisconsin, an arsonist who didn't want to set fire to people, but only buildings; unfortunately, he couldn't always avoid that there was collateral damage. He had made you sorry and he wasn't the only one. That duckie with its head going up and down, instead, it's a gift by your brother.

Also at work it was impossible not to notice that something was wrong. The next day I that she asked you the break you were gone, almost by inertia by moving towards your desk. But Prentiss had called you in her office. -Luke, I received a request from Penelope. She wants to use all the vacation months that has accumulated since she works in the BAU. You know something about?- you were not able to say anything, so she changed demand. -Did something happened? - you were forced to nod.

-She left me.- you said barely in a whisper, but the boss had heard.

-What? - the cry had probably been heard until to the upstairs. -She left you?- she had shaken her head, confused.

-In fact no, she asked me a break. There is any difference?- you just wanted to throw you on the job and then throw in the bed, which still retained her scent; It was the only way to be able to get some sleep. Even during sleep the nightmares still didn't let you in peace.

Shortly after, thankfully, a case had come. And you had discovered that Garcia would be replaced temporarily by his old ex, Kevin Lynch. The first day you had look at him indifferent; now you both had one thing in common. You both had let her go. But you still hope.

Now no one asks you anything. Emily gave up after she offered you a rest, to give you the way to find Penelope and convince her to come to her senses. But you had refused, telling her that if you would follow that plan, you would always live with the doubt that it could happen again. Unfortunately, it's the choice of your wife, your wife has to decide to turn back because she realized that love was the only thing that mattered.

But in the end you were forced to talk about it with someone and the choice should have been obvious, almost banal; but it was not like that because of the subject you should have talked about. Penelope is gone because she thinks you want children with her just to please the wish of her late mother-in-law. But it's not so, dammit!

-Before, no, I don't want it. And I know say this to you is equivalent to request, almost demand to kick me, but it's true. I never thought about it, the possibility of becoming a father. Let's say that I was also missing raw matter first.- Phil nods, inviting you to go on. -But when I met Penelope, when I realized that I was in love with her, things like marriage and having a family have become my biggest dream.- you realize that you're crying only when a hefty drop flowing down your face end up inside your sweater.

-So instead of sitting here whining you should get up and go to her. It's at her that you have to say these things, not at me. Don't tell me you're scared.- you shake your head, this not the point.

-If I do the first move I'll never know if she would choose me again.- Phil doesn't understand your reasons. For him are just excuses. And so, you isolates yourself more and more. You write hundreds of emails that not sent to her. The same goes for the text. And some paper letters. For an IT. This makes you barrel of laughs and sometimes you risk to get a heart attack, because once you started laughing just can't stop. It ends up that turns into a harrowing cry and luckily there Roxy, the only real girl that never left, who never hurt you, perhaps because she's not a human being, but an animal. You spend virtually all your free time with your face buried in her fur, like you used to before you met Penelope, when you were alone and the world seem a bad place, sad and when you loved the rain because you felt purified although now they say it's acid, which fret that more harm than good, but you're not a scientist of that kind, and even if you have very extensive knowledge, you dismiss it all and live it as would have done yours prehistoric ancestor.

And even now you still like rain, you remained fond of it. You never denied, even when you were with her, even when you were forced to realize that existed some other climates, that sometimes the sun comes out and there's always a rainbow after the storm. Now you're bound to learn something new, a breeze that penetrates in every free space, the cold air that caresses your skin and seems to imitate her touch and then you decide that even the wind isn't so bad and maybe can carry your message to her, like it's in the movies.

 Escape is cowardly decision. It's the easiest choice. And in your life, you've never taken this kind of decisions; you have always opted for the path more complicated, the most abstruse, trying to get away with your own strength. Also, because after losing mom and dad you didn't have much choice. Yes, you love your adoptive parents and you'll be forever grateful to them for taking care of you, when you needed, but ... It's never been the same and maybe you feel guilty for that too. But you're not strong enough, you had to dump all the blame on Luke, on your husband, you've abandoned him as soon as when he offered you a good excuse. How long were you waiting for such an occasion?

You know perfectly well that he doesn't want to have a child with you just to make a gift to his mother. But it's not fair, it's not really fair that you can't have your perfect idyll, you can't give birth to a beautiful creature with skin of his amber color and your blonde hair or otherwise his brown hair and your pale skin as a Norwegian. It's not correct on the part of destiny because you feel you have done everything according to the rules, you're a good person, compassionate, kind, you think of others and you try to force yourself to the maximum to make the world a better place. Why don't you deserve a prize?

But the first time that such thoughts have crossed your mind, did you feel so selfish as to scare you. You had defined a child an equivalent a premium. It's not up to you to judge your worked, rather whose it's much higher up as you. You must not do the good to receive in return something. But you couldn't stop to feel betrayed in some way.

You always wanted to have a family. And you've always believed that if you would find a man capable of love seriously, the rest would come by itself. Why can't you even contemplate the idea of adoption? Yet earlier, when many cases involving children, the option has touched you, and more than once. Especially when you had had to take care of Ellie, the little girl who Morgan had taken particularly to heart. But in the end always some living relative is jump out who carried them away; you should try only joy for them. But it was not so easy.

You should think of Luke, about what he's doing, but if you just let his name touches you, you know that it's over, there's not will be more hope to stay away from him, and if you went back with him, he would only suffer more, because you don't know when or if you'll ever stop looking for a scapegoat on which to lay the blame that you feel. And you don't want is him to bring this burden. You have seen him change, you've seen him smile more, when you are together. You should be his ray of sunshine, a blanket that envelops and protects him from evil, you should give him all the reasons in the world to want to live. And for a while you did it, you did manage to sweep away the clouds, although had to rampage a real storm, first. But now you don't feel more able to fulfill this task.

A son is all you want, everything you can think of. You can't settle for the rest, of the good fortune to have so many people who love you. You just can't. You don't think of Roxy, from the top of your animalism, the fact that you're not only hurting your husband but also your dog, your team and your friends. Yet you can't care about it enough.

You just need to put more kilometers as possible between your real life and yourself, then you come back to San Francisco, get a room for rent and leave ring the cell phone unladen, messages accumulate up to clog up memory. But you notice, however, a detail. No one it's from Luke.

He's not going to force you to do what he wants, or go back with him. He's willing to be sick in silence, without being a burden on you, probably hoping that at least you are happy.

But it's not. And gradually these revelations come to the surface and you can't kid yourself again. Love is selflessness and selfishness and it’s not always easy to distinguish clearly between these two. Not being with him means to make him feel bad, but come back when you couldn't give him only the best of yourself means end up anyway to hurt him. In neither case you win something.

So enough, you do the suitcase throwing in the few stuffs you brought with you; you, the one who has always risked of brought down the jet, because also for go on the field has to take with she an exceptional number of luggage.

You who love the objects and encompass yourself of them. But it's impossible to find a single thing in your possession to help take your mind off him, even stuff that belong to your past, before you knew him, now are tied with him anyway. So, in a moment everything is ready, you go to pay and don't waiting even the rest. You run to the airport, hoping to catch the first flight back home, in other words go back to him, for start again and you want to see where things go between you two, without any certainty that everything can be fixed, but in the end, it's worth to suffer to feel at least a little bit fine.

And you're in luck, because you can make the ticket and pass the checks in advance. But you should never believe that you make it through, until you actually haven't achieved what you hope. Italians have a saying about this and Rossi once did cite it: Don't say cat if you don't have it in the sack; the means it's similar a Until you catch the chicken, you don't have the chicken. You should apply this philosophy, not to automatically assume that you succeeded it.

Strong winds prevent the planes leaving and also arrivals are transferred to other areas. It was not expected anything like this, or maybe yes, but you didn't know because you haven't looked almost never the television, let alone a newscast. And so, you can't do anything but wait, lie in wait and pray it's not too late. Because Luke might get tired of you and your crazy exits, your ups and downs and he could decide that maybe going away you did him a favor.

Then finally the plane takes off and then lands. Throughout the flight you can just count how long missing at the moment X and repeat what you have to say to him, imagining his reactions. But all this only serves to pass the time, because like when you simulated exams with your colleagues, when you're sitting in front of the professor any hypothesis proves futile.

You just look for a taxi, find it, you shout at the driver the address and he understand that you have hurry. Get down, leaving a big tip to him. You don't care about the money. Only outside the front of the door of your home, you realize that it's late-night. You close your eyes. Stick your hand into the pocket; fingers huddle around a small metal object. You extract it and its surface reflects the moonlight.

This is the litmus test. If he would have change the lock, then you would know that there is nothing salvageable and then you would run to looking for a divorce lawyer, to make it less painful and prolonged the situation.

You take a breath and put your key into the lock.

[ilovejared]

Wake Me Up

Sam Winchester Creations Challenge/Round: August 2017

Partner: Malallory

Prompt: Season 6

Rating: Gen

Warnings: References to torture; gore; past non-con. Wincest.

Summary; Set during 6x01, Exile on Main Street. Sam knows something is wrong with him. He wants Dean to fix it.

Wake me up, wake me up inside I can't wake up, Wake me up inside, save me, Call my name and save me from the dark, wake me up Bid my blood to run, I can't wake up Before I come undone, save me Save me from the nothing I've become

 Evanescence - Bring Me To Life 

Something was wrong with him. He knew this on an intellectual level. It wasn’t just one thing, it was everything.

He was not the same Sam Winchester that had jumped into the cage and averted the Apocalypse.

Of course, he wouldn’t be after spending what amounted to over a century with Lucifer, suffering the most horrific tortures the devil could devise.

And Lucifer had plenty of time to concoct the cruelest of torments for the boy that had derailed his carefully laid plans.

 The archangel had enjoyed every scream he had elicited from Sam, laughed as he hung Sam’s own entrails around his neck, reveled in seeing how far he could push Sam before he was reduced to a howling, weeping mess, begging Lucifer to kill him or promising he would perform whatever vile acts Lucifer forced upon him. Anything to stop the pain.

Of course, it never worked. Because he had betrayed his soulmate, as Lucifer liked to call himself, and there was no mercy, no respite to be found in Hell.

Dean had been right. Sometimes there were no words adequate enough to describe an experience.

The thing was, Sam had thought about and analyzed these events over the past year and realized that, while he could remember the pain and the hopelessness, the degradation and the horror of the cage, it truly didn’t bother him.

He often wondered why he had ever thought that he had deserved to be in the cage.The burden of guilt Sam had  borne was as massive as it was ridiculous. Sure he had made mistakes, big ones, but nobody deserved be at the mercy of pure evil.

At least he didn’t have to worry about nightmares. He didn’t sleep.

Yeah, something was definitely amiss with the post-Hell version of Sam Winchester

Also, all of the things that he had done over the last year, he could look back on with a cool indifference. 

He had hunted relentlessly, case after case, sometimes with the help of the Campbell clan, sometimes alone. Whatever he had need to do to get the job done, he did.

And if that included a loss of a human life, or two, well it was all for the greater good, right? Not that the greater good was foremost in his mind. He liked the game of hunting and killing.

And sometimes, it didn’t matter who was killed.

Collateral damage. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter, not once when he was unable to save someone. As long as he took down the monster because that was what mattered.

He knew he should care about the innocent lives he had taken. He just didn’t.

Had Hell burned away his humanity? He wasn’t a demon, of that he was sure. He had thoroughly tested himself after he was back.

Maybe, he had endured so much pain and horror, that he was just numb to the everyday crap that made up a human life.

Deep down he really didn’t believe that. He knew something else was going on.

Besides hunting, the only other thing he could truthfully say he enjoyed was sex.

Lots of sex. With lots of women. Anytime. Anywhere.

His former self had enjoyed sex but random hook-ups and one-night stands had not been his thing. 

So there had been Jessica and a few other women and there had been his brother.

Dean.

Memories of his brother were all Sam had to keep him sane in the cage. He had clung to images of Dean, of their childhood when they had no one to rely on but one another.

Dean had been his protector. He had been mother, father, teacher, friend.

And later, Dean had become his lover.

Dean had been everything to Sam and vice versa.

And that brought him to the present.

Sam looked at his brother, still unconscious from the combination of djinn poisoning and the antidote that Sam had administered.

He knew how he should feel. The echoes of those emotions were in his head.

His heart, though, remained indifferent.

Sam had left Dean with Lisa for over a year, telling himself it was the best thing for both of them.

Bobby had begged Sam to let Dean know he was alive. Had called Sam a cold-hearted son of a bitch and then apologized immediately saying it was Sam's call.

Sam had earned the right to make decisions for himself when he had sacrificed himself for Dean, Bobby and every other soul on the planet.

Obviously, he had made a mistake because everything he had done since he had come back had felt wrong. Off. He hadn't wanted to hunt with Samuel, didn't really like the man, but he was family so Sam had used him when he needed him.

Dean was his real family.

Dean belonged with Sam, not with some woman that he knew would mean nothing to Dean in the long-run.

Not when Dean knew Sam was alive.

Dean would fix it. He would know what to do, what to say, to allow Sam to care about....something, anything, again.

If anything could fill the emptiness in Sam's heart, his soul, it would surely be Dean.

And if being near his brother, laughing with him, touching him wasn’t enough to awaken whatever had died within Sam then he might have to face the fact that the damage might be irreversible.

There was this little part of his brain that wondered if that might not be such a bad thing.

To not feel guilt, despair, sorrow, grief.

But he would also never feel joy, triumph, love.

Without these what would his life really be like? 

What was the point of existing if he could feel nothing?

He would be an empty shell, hollowed out and remolded by Lucifer’s hand.

Lucifer would win.

Sam leaned back in his chair and settled in to wait for his brother to wake up.

Then, he could begin the process of becoming human again.

Sam thought he felt the ghost of a feeling way down deep.

It felt like hope.