Whisper to a Scream
An Interlude in the "False Comforts" AU. (continuation of events from False Comforts, Welcome to Memphis, Caution: Falling Rocks and Altars of Stone and Wind. You do not have to have read the other stories but this won't make any sense without them.
Ratings: Mature Adult
Pairing: Sam/Dean, OFSC (Original Semi-Female Creatures)
Warnings: Sex, Blatant Abuse of Mythology.
The following is a work of fiction. It is meant for mature adults and deals with mature and disturbing themes. Forced to a category, it would be dark fiction and containing both violence and sexual violence. It is a horror story. It's also a love story.
The characters and situations portrayed here are not mine, they belong to the WB. This is a fan authored work and no profit is being made. Please do not link to this story without appropriate warnings. Please do not archive this story without my permission.
Birds fly in the eye of a painter's daughter
Spoken at the bitter end
Wasted sacrifice for the new nirvana
Night time, sends us on our way
We are, we are, we are we're just children
Finding our way around in decision
We are, we are, we are all but helpless
Take this forever,
Whisper to a scream
~Whisper to a Scream --SoHo Lyrics
She should not be here.
But like moth to flame, the veil had been drawn back and all she could see was the bleeding bright light, piercing the layers between the realms. It was a miracle of some sort that he’d not been found and devoured already.
Or no, no miracle, because even without trying she could see the coiling Darkness, slithering around those bloody points, masking the trickle and flow. She did not recognize the touch, but she could taste the flavor of the power that hovered so close. Not one of her own, nor of her mother’s.
A prior claim then, but not so obvious as to want itself known.
Nor did she want to challenge the claim; she wanted only to warm herself a little, nourish the emptiness.
She tread carefully, no whisper of sound marking her passage. To the power hovering she gave a nod, a submissive bow. No harm…no harm…only to taste a little.
Indulgent or amused, it gave her passage.
To the other, far closer and nearly as bright, she whispered silence and offered a touch to distract. It was all she could do not to taste that one as well, but even more than her watching host, her sister would be very, very angry with her.
A touch was as good as a taste and she stroked a long claw-edge along his face, following the curve of cheekbone, and stroking the hollow below. Along the jaw, and she felt her own blood quicken when he lifted his head slightly as if sensing her touch. A frown marred his brow and she blew across his lips, letting him taste the sweet forever summer, warm and lazy, and he slept.
Carefully she crept over him, no weight to her touch, but his skin was warm, and his heart beat slow and deep and steady. It echoed the pulse of the whole universe and mortals knew it not.
He breathed out and she breathed in, mouth open and she trembled, denying the urge to lean down and suck the very life from him.
It was not fair. Yeva had tasted him, had taken the blood of both, yet marked only one, and not this one. He was ripe for a claiming--
She heard the rustle of Darkness and bowed again. So, not a full claiming, but surely if the pattern was large enough, she could inscribe her own presence along an edge. She had no desire to win, only to play.
The approval she felt made her afraid, but she was not one to be ungrateful.
The next time he breathed out, she covered his mouth with her own.
Oh, it was like being drunk. Dizzying and heated and sweet, filling her limbs with warmth, sending shivers through the blood that haunted her veins. He pressed up, the long, heated warmth of his body pressing to hers and she let him breathe again.
Beside him, the other, the brother, stirred as if disturbed.
A warning and one she heeded, leaving the wine-drunkeness of his mouth for his chest, tongue teasing the small, dark nipples until they rose and hardened. Beneath her hips his body swelled and moved against her and she smiled, let him press between her thighs and drew warmth from his mouth again so he would feel the heat there.
A flush rose on his chest and she followed it with her mouth, with the softer edges of her claws, raking him lightly to make the blood swell under the flesh, but not so deeply that it flowed across the taut skin.
It was unfair that mortals were so warm and sweet and vital. That they were beautiful to her eyes, even to the ugliest of them. A soul should not make so much difference, being the tiny thing that it was, fragile and easily corrupted. They stole parts of each others souls or gave them away like they meant nothing. Gift and promises and for a moment she was angry that such weak and fragile things possessed something they neither deserved nor could appreciate most of the time, and the few who did confused devotion and piety with selfishness and isolation, so that others could not share the rewards of their rapture.
Foolish, foolish creatures…and yet so desireable and tasty and such a treat to feast upon.
The Darkness coiled closer around her and she hissed softly at it, almost challenging it, until it caressed her thighs, coiled around her belly, slid between her legs. She let it come, feeling the cold of the void beyond the veils sink deep, warning and blessing all at once.
She leaned forward and parted her legs, felt the heat and hardness of him sink inside her, the warmth spreading through her, making her skin glow and her eyes go blind. She'd have taken his breath too, but the Darkness coiled around his throat and tightened, slid around the tight join of their bodies, so that she could only barely feel him there within her.
She rode him like a mortal woman would, pressing her hips forward, twisting and lifting and watched him struggle. Laid her hands on his chest as he heaved and tried to breathe, felt his body quicken and tighten, spearing her.
The clawing and the strangling sounds burst loud across her senses and she had only a moment to see the fury in the other's eyes, the flash of bright-white-hot hatred in his face.
The Darkness whispered her name and the brother's face twisted and he spat it out at her, blade and gun both ready. She screamed in protest, listened to the Darkness laughing at her. The bullet ripped though her flesh but would not kill; the blade burned, but she would not bleed. Angry, her claws slashed out to rip the triumphant glee from his face--
---and found her erstwhile victim pushing up and twisting free, and her claws raked his chest instead. He screamed as the blood flowed across her hands and spattered the sheets…
The second shot caught her in the face, but even before she could register that minor pain, a hand tangled in her hair and jerked her backward, pulling her free of his body.
It was like being torn from her mothers' womb.
Yeva was fury and betrayal and unrelenting, clawing at her face and tearing at her wings as they tumbled in the shadows, fighting like cats, shrieking like the screaming Sidhe that were their cousins.
Their mother's voice sent them whimpering to their own realms, hiding in their rooms, shamed and helpless under her fury.
Anoush licked her wounds and straightened her wings, only to find her hands painted with glistening blood. His blood and she licked it from her fingers and purred happily. Felt the seeping heat between her thighs and moaned softly when she felt his seed between her legs, inside her. Not enough to bring forth children as shades in the dark, but enough to taste and she savored it, dipping her fingers into it and tasting, then licking the blood from her fingers until only the memory of the taste of him remained…
Drunk but not nearly sated…she'd never be sated, the craving began almost immediately…
She heard that nether Darkness laughing at her, for having tricked her, and she could do nothing but look when it parted the veils…
… a glimmer of what she craved as he was bandaged and soothed, as holy water erased the touch of her from his skin and his brother's mouth banished the taste of her from his lips. What she craved so desperately, flowed from his loins under his brother's hand, wasted and barren, spilled to no purpose but relief and she wept, tears stealing the lingering warmth from her…
He gave it so easily to his brother, with nothing expected and returned, all of it there between them…
Only those with souls could love, and the soulless could only hunger for the pale copy of that…
The veil dropped and she curled into herself…made no protest when the Darkness crept into her again, demanded its due for allowing her so much, pierced and filled and soiled her and left behind a bill that would be paid in a true month's time.
The brother had her name. She would likely not get another chance…
A single drop of his blood remained under her claw and she whispered to it, gave him a name, and the blood turned black then vanished, returning to its sources.
Anoush slept and her body swelled…in a true month's time, the other Darkness would spill out of her and answer only to that which fathered it upon her. But she knew the name of the Darkness. It lacked the power of a banishment, but it commanded its purpose, and she knew the coin it desired. Her sister’s fury would not keep Anoush from what she craved, and the Darkness was only too willing to be bribed.
She settled and drew a claw, carving his name into her flesh as she had a lovers of ages ago.
Sam… She murmured and smiled when he heard her, then slept and let the Darkness swell in her womb.