Nick could have been easily convinced that he’d ended up in Hell despite how unstereotypical his torment was, if it weren’t for the fact that being in Hell would have made it much easier for War to find him. It only figured he would be miserable in Heaven, the place where people were supposed to find peace. Maybe there was no such thing as proper peace for an ex-vessel of Lucifer.
He had no sense of time, no idea how long it had been or if day and night still existed, but it felt as if an eternity had already passed. Nick felt like a ghost wandering through the halls of War’s home, mindless and intangible. There was nothing to do but think and relive memories that only made him feel worse, not comforted, because imagining it was not the same as living it. He couldn’t lay in the bed where they’d slept together, couldn’t pretend it was just like going to sleep on nights when War had horseman things to attend to, because he knew War wouldn’t be coming back. He wouldn’t wake up to find his love beside him again, no matter how he wished for it.
Sometimes he’d stand in the front hall and watch the door, as if doing so would make War come home and break the illusion. He knew it was extremely unlikely to happen but he couldn’t completely abolish the hope, even if that hope made his chest ache more as time passed. While he stood there, he’d whisper, “War,” like a mantra that kept him somewhat stable, rooted. The one syllable was the only thing he’d spoken out loud since dying and that wouldn’t change, he figured, unless he lost his mind and began talking to himself to break the silence and loneliness. Saying anything else seemed pointless and impossible.
Eventually, Nick slumped against a wall and slid to the floor, closing his tired eyes and trying to remember what a normal, dreamless sleep felt like.
Oberon had healed a lot since being trapped in the city, but Godric still worried. He got nervous when Oberon left the cabin and he really didn’t want him to go back to the city any time soon, so even though he knew Oberon usually liked to go with him when he needed to feed or would prefer being…
With little else to occupy his time, Nick went on frequent walks through the downtown city streets to clear his mind. It was normally a peaceful, refreshing time for him, leaving him completely blind-sighted and startled when he suddenly found himself trapped against a cold, cement wall with fangs piercing into his neck.
After being borderline suicidal ever since his family died, Nick had found solace with War, able to move on and enjoy life again. He was determined not to give up his second chance and he wanted to be with War as long as he could, so it was almost laughably ironic that he’d get possessed and then bitten by a vampire in the short time he’d had with War so far. He pushed at the vampire’s chest as his body tensed with fear, but he wasn’t strong enough to put up any fight at all, so he gave up, spending his last few moments alive imagining he was falling asleep in bed beside War.
When Nick woke up again in the very place he’d been envisioning, he sat up in confusion, thinking it must have been a really vivid dream. He got up and walked through the house, which was abnormally empty. War wasn’t there, the puppy War got him for Christmas wasn’t there, he was completely alone in the eerily quiet house, and he realized something wasn’t right.
It felt like War’s house, but it wasn’t. There was nothing beyond the locked doors and everything seemed too perfect, like he was in a dream, or, logically, the afterlife. But if this was Heaven, then it wasn’t the perfect, beautiful place people thought it would be, because if he was destined to remain here for eternity without War, he might as well have been condemned to Hell.
Nick was torn between yearning for a normal, happy Christmas, and forgetting the holiday all together. When he thought of past Christmases, the memories of his late wife and child came rushing back before he could properly brace himself for the emotional onslaught. He’d spent more Christmases with Sarah than with his own parents, and after years they would finally spend the holiday as a full family with their baby.
It was late August when he lost them. For a few short months, he had the family he’d always dreamed of with the woman he loved more than he’d ever loved another person, but on a horrific, blistering hot summer night, his life was torn apart. By mid-September he’d said yes and he was certain his life was as good as over, but he supposed spending the holidays completely unaware of what was happening outside of the mind numbing pain that came with being Lucifer’s vessel was better than staying home alone and thinking about what he could’ve had if it weren’t for that August night.
He never assumed there would be anything after that, but here he was, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He had a feeling demons didn’t celebrate Christmas, and on one hand it was like a sign that he could ignore it too, but on the other it made him a little sad that even now, when he was happy and in love again, his life no longer in danger, a festive Christmas was still not in the cards for him.
After the funeral, Nick had found his class ring in Sarah’s jewelry whilst packing up some of her things. She’d been buried in her wedding band, but the class ring looked like she still took care of it and maybe even wore it on occasion. They’d been high school sweethearts. The ring had been hers for years.
But Nick had moved on. His life was completely different now, and while seasonal depression was getting him down and forcing him to relive bad memories, he was happy with War. He sat on War’s side of the bed and opened the case that held the ring to look at it for a moment. It had his initials and his graduating year on it, with a red stone the same colour as War’s mustang. With a tiny smile, he closed the box and set it on War’s bedside table. War already had his own special ring and a horseman of the apocalypse wearing the class ring of some random, pathetic human was improbable, but Nick didn’t care, he still wanted War to have it.
He slipped into the warm bed and pretended War was there instead of letting himself dwell on the past. He wasn’t a husband or a father and he wouldn’t have a traditional Christmas, but he was happy. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.
*smiles slightly*
No. You don’t. But can you blame a guy for trying to be careful?
I suppose you can never be too careful. I promise I don’t have murderous intention.
Good to know, but is this the bus station? I guess this is where we part ways?
Guess so. Don’t get caught in any bombings or gang fights on the way home.
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
You’re not a mugger or murderer are you?
Do I seem like a mugger or a murderer?
*smiles slightly*
No. You don’t. But can you blame a guy for trying to be careful?
I suppose you can never be too careful. I promise I don’t have murderous intention.
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
It’s fine, I know the feeling. I’m not sure what a normal, peaceful life is supposed to be like anymore.
Sounds like we’re in the same boat…should I be worried about you?
Worried about me? In what way?
You’re not a mugger or murderer are you?
Do I seem like a mugger or a murderer?
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
It’s fine, I know the feeling. I’m not sure what a normal, peaceful life is supposed to be like anymore.
Sounds like we’re in the same boat…should I be worried about you?
Worried about me? In what way?
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
You can do whatever dangerous shit you’d like but I think I’ll stay out of it.
I’d like to stay out of it too. But it seems like life has other options for me and just won’t let me have a normal, peaceful life. Everytime I start to get happy and forget the danger that’s out there something comes back and smacks me in the face to remind me that i’m supposed to be miserable.
*shakes his head in disbelief*
And now i’m rambling to a stranger. Sorry Nick.
It’s fine, I know the feeling. I’m not sure what a normal, peaceful life is supposed to be like anymore.
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
*mimics his shrug*
Depends on what your idea of a worst case scenario is.
Quite frankly I am tired of worst case scenarios, so I’m just going to hope the last block between here and the terminal goes terrifically boringly.
What about the trip home? Should that be boring or can we drop a bomb on something?
You can do whatever dangerous shit you’d like but I think I’ll stay out of it.
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
*shrugs*
We’re almost there, what’s the worst that could happen?
*mimics his shrug*
Depends on what your idea of a worst case scenario is.
Quite frankly I am tired of worst case scenarios, so I’m just going to hope the last block between here and the terminal goes terrifically boringly.
35 notes (via dixonwithfangs & dixonwithfangs)
