Precious Moments (11/12)
May. 17th, 2010 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
super_seme04AN: All faces change with time but blood stays the same.
I am Jack’s Blasphemous Legacy
Tyler tells them to go see the world for the summer.
He gives them a black card with no expiration date.
Michael kisses each of their foreheads and gently nudges them out of the house.
Tyler kisses Castiel until he’s laughing and squirming then slams the front door in their faces.
“…You could’ve just said you wanted to be gross,” Jack yells at the door.
Jane snorts then says that she always wanted to go to Crete.
They don’t go anywhere near Rome.
Jack is still shaking though they’re now in Paris and his skin is still pale and completely bloodless.
His fingers twitch and Jane grabs his hands to breathe feeling back into them.
“Thanks,” Jack quietly says.
“Poor little brother, allergic to faith,” she croons as she brushes his cheek.
She lights a cigarette then holds it in the corner of her mouth as she smiles.
“We should go somewhere completely godless.”
Jack sighs.
“God is everywhere, Jane.”
“Our Father who art in Heaven is wherever we put him,” she remind him as she links their arms together. “Churches, whore houses, pornography... Everyone calls for Jesus eventually,” she adds with a smirk.
They walk streets that Jack doesn’t know, but he can feel the earth under all the concrete.
Underneath the smells and sounds of life, Jack can hear the smallest sounds and can feel the trees reaching into the earth with their roots.
It’s quiet and dark down there. Stillness and suffocation.
Jack hates it.
They aimlessly wander the streets and Jane mocks those she deems worthy of it as the smoke from her cigarette trails them like a temporary tail.
They are beckoned into old, dim shops by gypsies and mystics that call them by their true names, but they walk on.
They already know all the secrets of this world because this world belongs to them.
They could block out the sun if they wanted to then watch the world wither and rot.
Jack sees no one of interest until he sees a barefoot man resting against a window with his eyes closed.
It's strange that he doesn't seem out of place. It's almost as if no one else sees him.
His head is bowed and he's undisturbed by the rush and swell of life around him.
“Jack…”
He sees a little boy.
“Jack.”
“Jane,” he says as he slips free of her arm then runs.
If he would just open his eyes then he would know for sure.
A boy born from a nameless, insignificant woman.
“Jack!”
She was just a vessel, but he needed a child.
A son.
He almost gets hit by a car in the middle of the street and he's shaking, but it's not from adrenaline or fear.
A car won't kill Jack.
A lot of things won't kill Jack.
He can't feel his fingers again and each breath feels like he's trying to swallow glass and ice.
Jack has to see.
He breathes as if waking up when Jack touches his face then opens his eyes.
“Jesse.“
"Jack sees no one of interest until he sees a barefoot man resting against a window with his eyes closed.
It's strange that he doesn't seem out of place. It's almost as if no one else sees him.
His head is bowed and he's undisturbed by the rush and swell of life around him." ----------------
Now playing: Coldplay and Faultline - Where Is My Boy? (f/ Chris Martin)
via FoxyTunes
I am Jack’s Blasphemous Legacy
Tyler tells them to go see the world for the summer.
He gives them a black card with no expiration date.
Michael kisses each of their foreheads and gently nudges them out of the house.
Tyler kisses Castiel until he’s laughing and squirming then slams the front door in their faces.
“…You could’ve just said you wanted to be gross,” Jack yells at the door.
Jane snorts then says that she always wanted to go to Crete.
They don’t go anywhere near Rome.
Jack is still shaking though they’re now in Paris and his skin is still pale and completely bloodless.
His fingers twitch and Jane grabs his hands to breathe feeling back into them.
“Thanks,” Jack quietly says.
“Poor little brother, allergic to faith,” she croons as she brushes his cheek.
She lights a cigarette then holds it in the corner of her mouth as she smiles.
“We should go somewhere completely godless.”
Jack sighs.
“God is everywhere, Jane.”
“Our Father who art in Heaven is wherever we put him,” she remind him as she links their arms together. “Churches, whore houses, pornography... Everyone calls for Jesus eventually,” she adds with a smirk.
They walk streets that Jack doesn’t know, but he can feel the earth under all the concrete.
Underneath the smells and sounds of life, Jack can hear the smallest sounds and can feel the trees reaching into the earth with their roots.
It’s quiet and dark down there. Stillness and suffocation.
Jack hates it.
They aimlessly wander the streets and Jane mocks those she deems worthy of it as the smoke from her cigarette trails them like a temporary tail.
They are beckoned into old, dim shops by gypsies and mystics that call them by their true names, but they walk on.
They already know all the secrets of this world because this world belongs to them.
They could block out the sun if they wanted to then watch the world wither and rot.
Jack sees no one of interest until he sees a barefoot man resting against a window with his eyes closed.
It's strange that he doesn't seem out of place. It's almost as if no one else sees him.
His head is bowed and he's undisturbed by the rush and swell of life around him.
“Jack…”
He sees a little boy.
“Jack.”
“Jane,” he says as he slips free of her arm then runs.
If he would just open his eyes then he would know for sure.
A boy born from a nameless, insignificant woman.
“Jack!”
She was just a vessel, but he needed a child.
A son.
He almost gets hit by a car in the middle of the street and he's shaking, but it's not from adrenaline or fear.
A car won't kill Jack.
A lot of things won't kill Jack.
He can't feel his fingers again and each breath feels like he's trying to swallow glass and ice.
Jack has to see.
He breathes as if waking up when Jack touches his face then opens his eyes.
“Jesse.“
"Jack sees no one of interest until he sees a barefoot man resting against a window with his eyes closed.
It's strange that he doesn't seem out of place. It's almost as if no one else sees him.
His head is bowed and he's undisturbed by the rush and swell of life around him."
Now playing: Coldplay and Faultline - Where Is My Boy? (f/ Chris Martin)
via FoxyTunes
