Tat (tatlovestea) wrote in 1973flashfic,

All hallows' eve challenge, by tatlovestea

Title: Samhain
Author: Tat :)
Words: 730
Rating/Pairings: Brown cortina(?), mild Sam/Annie
Spoilers: Set after the series so spoilers for 2.08
Disclaimer: Obviously not mine because the people who do own it decided to go for a much happier ending... *rolls eyes*
Summary: He should've known it wouldn't last when the rainbow faded...

Summer had drawn to its end.
The sun had become a burnt orange sphere in the sky; illuminating the return of autumn with its welcoming golden rays.
But autumn would never arrive.
Sam stood beneath the still extant sun, arms wide, as the sky tore apart above him.
She lay there; all twisted limbs, shattered bones and pierced flesh. Opaque skin shone through blue and pink beneath the harsh fluorescent light making her flesh appear to be made of marble. Veins and arteries occasionally bursting through; crimson contrasted against white.
“What happened to her legs?” Sam interrupted Gene and Oswald’s conversation on the cause of death, his attention focused on the body before him.
Puzzled, Oswald looked over them. “I don’t know what you mean.”
 “She must have fallen from a height.” Sam pointed. “Her legs are all mangled.”
Four fathomless eyes stared back at him.
“They’re not, Sam.”
 Outside in the bitter night air, Sam pushed Annie against the blackened brickwork, placing a firm kiss upon her lips. He pulled back suddenly; her skin burnt like ice.
“What’s wrong?” Annie asked anxiously, wide-eyed.
Tenderly touching her cheek, he replied: “You’re freezing.”
“I’m not.” She placed a concerned hand over his. “It’s you that’s cold, Sam.”
The corpse had been dragged from the canal.
Suicide, apparently.
Gene, Chris and Ray were already beside the body. All leaning over, expressions grave, as Sam entered.
“Selfish bastard,” Gene muttered, adding, presumably for Sam’s benefit: “’E’s already been identified by ‘is poor ol’ mum. Fancy ‘avin to remember your son this way.” He gestured to the trolley.
Chris and Ray nodded sombrely in agreement.
Sam came up beside him to gaze upon the dead man’s face. Glazed eyes, the blood that had seeped from behind them formed a translucent webbed film across the hazel orbs, coagulating in the corners. The empty eyes stared back at Sam, unseeing.
Choking on the acidic bile that forced its way into his mouth, coating his throat and burning his tongue, Sam held firmly onto the steel slab to stop himself from collapsing.
“You know ‘im, Tyler?”
Sam didn’t answer, he wasn’t sure whether to laugh manically or sob hysterically, because he did know him.
He was the body.

Sitting in solitude at the bar, Sam nursed his empty glass, not realising he’d already drunk the liquid.
“Cheer up, Gladys.” A large fleshy hand clapped down upon his bony shoulder. “You look like death warmed over.”
Sam stared vacantly ahead. “I feel like it, Guv,” he said softly.
“Nonsense,” Gene scoffed. “All you need is another scotch.” He clicked his fingers and signalled to Nelson to re-fill Sam’s glass.
“I’ve had enough scotch to last me a lifetime,” Sam mumbled. Yet, from habit, he downed it in one to numb the pain he’d stopped feeling long ago.
Mirror, mirror on the wall.”
A red flash.
A faint giggle.
Who’s the fairest of them all?”
Raising his eyes to look into the mirror, only his eyes reflected back.
Where are you, Sam?
Look closer.”
You’re dead.
The mirror never lies.”
He stopped staring and looked. Only his haunted eyes reflected back before the mirror’s silver surface suddenly shimmered, flickered fragments of reality bursting through to shatter his illusion, until he finally saw the truth.
Though how he could see was uncertain.
You can’t step through the looking-glass.”
Because hollow sockets reflected back.
He should’ve known it could never last; he should’ve known when the rainbow faded.
“…in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life…”
But eternity was an impossibility. What begins has to have an end. He’d tried so hard to live, to feel real, to return to a world where he could have that fairytale ending. But he’d been foolish to think it could be happily ever after when all it had simply been was the end.
“…we commit this body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”
Dust is what he had become. Death is an inevitability that can never be escaped. But he’d foolishly thought he could live forever. Now, the world of his own creation was crumbling around him and he was helpless to stop it, to stop it from ending.
“…and give him peace…”
All he’d ever wanted was to be alive. He didn’t want to die
But he was already dead.

Tags: all hallows' eve
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