Word Count: ~2400
Summary: Part of her is aware that this is nothing more than a nightmare but deep down she can't shake off the feeling that it's a glimpse of the future.
A/N: This is the one you all have been waiting for. I hope it lives up to your expectations and does not seem to OOC. :) It's set at one point in what would have been the second season. The title is from Noah Gundersen 's Slow Dancer and you should really listen to it while reading the story. \o/
P.S. I apologize for taking so long with writing but I barely have time during the week to write and have to cram it all into the weekend. Thus the delay. SORRY! *squishes*
Disclaimer: I own neither the show nor the characters. I don’t earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.
my name was on every tongue
and all of the smoke and ash
like the memory of the time gone bad
hanging like a shadow
When Vera opens her eyes, the night sky above her is on fire, flames blazing on the horizon, and she thinks she can feel the heat licking at her skin. There are charred trees to her left and right, the ground beneath her bare feet is scorched, covered in dead leaves, and below the edge of the cliff she's standing on, the world is burning, slowly sinking into chaos, and yet the people aren't crying out in fear. Instead, they're celebrating as if it were a new dawn but Vera knows better, knows it's the beginning of the end.
Part of her is aware that this is nothing more than a bad dream but deep down she can't shake off the feeling that it's a glimpse of the future. Suddenly, the tiny hairs on her nape raise and Vera knows she is no longer alone but before she has the chance to face the person behind her, a firm hand curves around her hip while a strong arm locks across her chest, dragging her back into a hard body.
“Easy, Vera,” her captor whispers, his breath warm against her skin, and she goes completely still as she recognizes the voice. She should have known that he would be the one behind this nightmare.
Ever since the truth about Amy and Michael had been revealed, the Devil had started to single her out, first vowed she would experience never-ending pain and sorrow if she and the others didn't back off and let him take what's rightfully his, but then, a few weeks ago, he'd changed tactics all of the sudden and began promising her no harm would ever come to Michael if she abandoned the others and joined him.
No one really knows what to make of it. Koa and Erin believe it's some kind of elaborate scheme to drive a wedge between them all while Raul, Leo and Alan take it even a step further and think the Devil may have found a way to indirectly kill Vera and will do so the second she agrees to his terms. Joshua on the other hand has been suspiciously quiet about it and only reluctantly voiced his opinion when Vera demanded a straight answer from him yesterday - and now she almost wishes she hadn't because she's afraid that he's been right in his assumption.
“What do you want?” she whispers, her voice tight, and the Devil chuckles, a dark and sinister sound that sends a chill down her spine.
“Don't play stupid,” he murmurs into her hair, pressing himself closer until there's barely any space left between them. “Just say the word.”
Her entire body tenses and Vera clenches her fists, her fingernails digging into her palms. “It's never going to happen.”
This time, he laughs openly, tightens his grip on her hip and leans in closer until his lips are touching her ear. “Never say never, Vera.”
“You son of a bitch,” she snaps, and his answering laughter vibrates through her body, pulses around her, fueling the fury sizzling in her blood. Vera lashes out at him then, her elbow connecting with his stomach, and there's a moment of grim satisfaction as the hard jab makes him wheeze. He manages to grip her wrists though and wrenches her around, half-dragging, half-pushing her until her back slams into a dead tree trunk.
“Stop it, Vera,” he gets out between shallow breaths. “Why can't you see tha—”
“Can't see?” She almost chokes on the word, tears burning behind her eyes. “All I see is hell on earth. Because that's what's going to happen if I say yes! You will kill everyone who's a threat to you, kill us, kill Michael—”
“No,” he cuts her off and releases one wrist to reach up, and his touch is surprisingly gentle on her chin as he turns her face towards the burning valley. She can bear the sight, squeezes her eyes closed and feels the tears roll down her face, but he's relentless. “No, Vera. Open your eyes and look. You know I always keep my end of the bargain and when I tell you no harm will come to Michael, I mean it.”
Maybe it's the tone in his voice, maybe it's the words themselves, or maybe it's the combination of it all that prompts her to open her eyes and when she does, she has to stifle a sob. Hovering above the valley is her son, no longer her little boy but a young man with beautiful white wings, and in his arms he holds Amy, her own dark wings, streaked with hellfire, extended behind her.
“See, Vera, he will be fine.” He steps closer, lets go of her other wrist and settles his hand on her waist before leaning in. “All you have to do is help me awaken my child and I promise you, Michael will be safe.”
Her vision blurs with tears again and there's a band around her chest drawing tighter and tighter. All she's ever wanted for her son is to be safe, but not at the cost of the world, not if it means that mankind will fall under the Devil's rule. Blinking the tears away, she turns her head to look at him again. “No, I won't.”
“Oh, Vera,” he says, the corner of his mouth lifting up, and his fingertips brush along her cheek as he sweeps loose strands of hair away from her face. It's a far too intimate gesture and Vera flinches away but he catches her cheek with the palm of his hand and holds her in place, fire burning in his eyes. “You will.”
Something snaps inside her, a red haze filling her vision as fear and adrenaline and fury rush through her like a tidal wave, and before Vera quite knows what she's doing, she reaches out to grip his arms and jerks her knee up. The Devil exhales in a hiss through his teeth and knocks her knee aside, grips her shoulders and tries to subdue her, but she doesn't give up and attempts to hit him again. This time though he's prepared, forces her back against the tree trunk, slides a knee between hers, and suddenly his leg is pressed up right between her thighs.
Her body arches without her permission and her breath catches in her throat. Over the sound of her heart thundering in her ears, Vera hears him whispering something in a language as old as time before he drops his forehead to her shoulder, fingers closing around her hips, tight enough to leave bruises.
This isn't happening, she thinks frantically, can't be happening, but deep down she knows that it had been a long time coming. There's always been more to their encounters than simple animosity, it's been something else entirely, a spark that seeped into her every cell, left her with flushed cheeks and an itch just beneath her skin, and even now, with Leo back in her life, she still feels the pull.
His ragged breath ghosts over her neck, the sensation sending a shiver through her, and his fingers flex in response, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. The feeling of his calloused fingers curling against her heated skin hits her like the breaking of a seal and Vera jerks, her eyes going wide as all her nerve endings come alive with burning, white heat, rushing through her before settling low in her belly.
His head snaps up, letting her catch a glimpse of his eyes, and the look in them is one Vera has never seen before, dark, open, hungry, and then his mouth is on hers, hard and needy. Something hot and bright blooms inside her, spreads through her like the fire down in the valley, and she clutches at his shoulders as she kisses him back.
Somewhere in the back of her mind there's a faint voice telling her to put a stop to this, that it's madness, but it's drowned out by her pulse rushing in her ears and his heart racing against her chest through layers of clothing. The only clear thought she has is that this is it, that by kissing him back, kissing the Devil back instead of putting an end to it, she's crossed the Rubicon.
As if he has read her mind, he slides his hands up her back and drags her towards him, and that's the only warning Vera gets before he's turning them around and lowering her to the ground. He follows her down, supports himself with his knees and one hand above her, the other finding the hem of her shirt again, and she shivers as he begins to push it up.
He pulls back far enough to tug her shirt over her head before covering her mouth with his again as his fingers drift up her side and brush along the underside of her bra. She goes hot and cold both at once, goose bumps breaking out on her skin despite the heat surrounding them, and tangles her fingers in his hair. He breaks the kiss to watch her as he pushes her bra up and slides his thumb over one nipple, leaving her gasping into his mouth.
There's a flicker of something else than hunger behind his dark eyes, something warmer, human, something that takes away what little breath she's left, and when he strokes his fingers down her body and to her back, unclasps her bra and pulls it off before pressing his lips to her chest, Vera arches into him with a broken moan. His lips move slowly over her skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake until she can't take it anymore and gives in, dragging his mouth back to hers.
He groans into her mouth and slides his hand to the back of her head, entwining his fingers tight in her hair, and there's nothing gentle about his kiss, it's scraping teeth and bruising lips and everything she never knew she wanted. Her fingers curl into the back of his shirt, driven by the sudden urge to touch him, to feel his skin against hers, and somehow he seems to know what she's trying to do, sits back slightly and starts to unbutton his shirt, his gaze fixed on her.
She should feel exposed but the look in his eyes as he stares down at her makes her feel anything but and a strange feeling, gritty and real, surges through her as he drops his shirt to the ground and reaches for the snap of her jeans. He slips his hands inside her jeans and she doesn't miss the flash of desire crossing his face as she lifts her hips and lets him drag her underwear down her legs along with the denim nor the shudder running through him as she flattens her palms against his naked chest and slides them down over warm skin and lean muscles to his belt buckle.
His eyes are dark, almost feral as he gets to his feet, kicks his shoes off and pushes his pants down, and heat flares hot inside her as she looks at him. The light of the fire gleams on his skin, turning the dusting of hairs on his arms and legs a flaming gold, and Vera can't help but agree on one point with the bible - the devil had been the most beautiful angel in heaven.
Settling back between her legs, he hovers over her for a moment, his hand splayed low on her stomach in an almost possessive manner, watching her with shadowed eyes, and she gives into temptation, follows the trail of faint hair down his chest, over his stomach until she can curl her fingers around him.
He jerks, fire flashing in his eyes again, and his voice is hoarse as he says her name before pulling her hand away and pinning it to the ground next to her shoulder. Lowering his head, he presses his mouth against hers again and she wraps her free arm around his back as she feels him push against her.
When he slides into her, it forces a sharp cry out of her, and she arches her neck, baring her throat to his mouth, her fingernails digging into his skin as she gasps for air, her eyes falling closed. He pulls out and pushes back in, again and again and again, and pleasure burns through her like a slow sort of inferno, her heartbeat echoing in her ears like thunder. It rolls again, this time sounding too real, and she opens her eyes to see stormy clouds gathering in the sky.
The sight sends another wave of heat through her and she clutches at his back, pulls him even closer and presses her mouth to his hot skin as the world slowly spirals out of control. When the first raindrops hit them, cool but not ice cold where they land on her skin, he bites her neck so hard it stings, ancient words tumbling out of him against the hollow of her throat, and it takes only a handful of strokes before she comes.
He keeps moving within her, harder and deeper, draws back slightly to look at her, and it's only when she slides her fingers over the nape of his wet neck that he tenses against her and his rhythm falls apart. When it's his turn, he comes with her name on his lips, his forehead pressed to hers.
His breath is harsh against her neck as he slumps against her, his skin damp against her forehead, and Vera waits for panic to set in, the urge to get up, get away, but her mind is strangely quiet. Even as he shifts to lie against her side and wraps his arm around her, his hand a solid weight on her hips and his steady breathing ghosting over her skin, there's no reaction, just a soothing drowsiness settling over her as they stay like that, silent and oddly content, pressed against each other while the rain slowly dies away to a gentle and soft patter, the red of the sky fading to a light blue as the flames down in the valley go out one by one.
The pull of sleep becomes stronger and part of her wonders how it's possible to fall asleep when she's already sleeping but the thought floats away as she drifts off to sleep. Just before she's sliding into slumber, Vera looks one last time across the valley and the image of her son and Amy circling high above follows her down into the darkness.
This time though, Amy's wings are as white as Michael's.
- END -