|Victor Brannigan (sciomachy) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-01-16 16:02:00
|Entry tags:||death, victor brannigan|
WHO: Victor Brannigan and Death
WHAT: "I know you..."
WHEN: Tuesday afternoon
WHERE: Central Park
Heading outside for a walk after spending so many weeks cooped up inside his apartment was like being set free. He was experiencing less pain from his gunshot wound, and he could get around more easily. He took the first opportunity to head to the park and just wander.
The air was cold and it bit into his skin. He pulled the hat his mother-in-law had knitted for him down over his ears and he tightened his scarf. His hands were shoved as deeply into his pockets as they could go. The park wasn't as full of shouting, happy people like it was in the summer. A few hardcore joggers passed him, as well as the odd parent with a rugged up kid. He meandered his way through until he was tired and he sat on a bench to recover his energy.
From his seat, he saw her. She looked like a young girl, blonde with dark eyes. There was something about her that gave away the lie of her youth. Something in her eyes talked of ages and anguish and Victor could have sworn he knew her.
She caught him looking and the corner of her pale lips lifted in a small smile. Before he could even react, she had turned and was walking towards him. He licked his lips worriedly and shifted a little. There was something about the girl which was deeply unsettling.
"Hello, Victor," she said, taking a seat beside him. Her voice made his stomach freeze and he turned to look at her, his expression a little shell-shocked.
"How do you-?"
"You know me, don't you?" she asked, and he nodded his head slightly. "Thought so. Most people pass me by, even if they have met me." She let her legs swing a little as she sat. "I was there when you got shot. I know you saw Michael's wings and I know he told you who he is. I followed him to the hospital."
Victor still didn't really understand. "Er-"
"Michael did something out of character and I wanted to see why so I hung around." She had been out of sight, keeping to corners and shadows. "I'm Death and I was at that building to collect you. Michael interfered with my business."
And all of a sudden, Victor felt like his heart was going to escape his body through his throat. His eyes rounded and he wondered if he could run without hurting himself again. "Uh...I'm sorry?"
Death shrugged. "I'm not mad. I just wanted to understand why he did it. I do now. You're his partner." She patted his shoulder a little. She could be reassuring when she wanted to be. "You've seen more death than a lot of people have. I know you pretty well. I'm not upset I didn't have to collect you."
"You know me?" There was not a single thing about this conversation which was reassuring to Victor.
"You work homicide crime scenes. So do I." Death shrugged again. "You're a good man. It's not always easy taking the good ones."
"So...are you here to- to take me now?" he asked, his voice higher pitched than he would have it sound by choice.
Death shook her head and she pointed to a younger girl being pushed on a swing by her father. The girl was laughing and happy as she sailed through the air. Victor felt his throat seize up.
"But- Oh god, the man or the girl?" he asked, wanting to jump to his feet and warn them. Almost as if reading his mind, Death's hand wrapped around his wrist to keep him still. Her grin was surprisingly strong and bitter cold.
"The girl," Death answered, her voice blank.
Victor's heart sank. "Can't- can't I do anything?"
"Do you have supernatural healing powers?" Death wasn't being sarcastic, she was merely pointing out a truth. Victor shook his head and Death nodded. "No. There's nothing you can do. It's God's plan."
"But she's a child!" Victor said, a little too loudly. No one heard, but his voice seemed to echo back to him, horrified and empty.
"She's a soul like all the rest," Death explained.
"But she'll never fall in love! Never experience anything."
The corners of Death's mouth lifted again. "Such a mortal response. She'll also never worry about mortgage payments or teenage pregnancy or anything else. She's happy now. Why not go out now while things are still magical?"
There were no words left in Victor to protest. His shoulder slumped as he watched the little girl laugh as she swung. Her father started to push her higher and higher-
"I-I can't watch," Victor said, stumbling to his feet. He glanced over at the blonde on the bench and she turned her eyes to him again. Instead of feeling scared this time, he felt oddly reassured by her presence. He couldn't explain the change, but he was pretty sure she had done something to him on purpose.
"I'll see you again," she said, with a little wave goodbye.
Victor just turned as Death rose to head over to the playground. The small girl was now cutting a wide crescent arc through the air and her father was unaware she was about to attempt to jump out of the swing, sure that if she could swing that high, she could fly.
But little girls couldn't fly.
No matter how fast he walked, Victor couldn't get away fast enough to avoid hearing the scream of an anguished father who had just lost his daughter on what was supposed to have been an innocent trip to the park.
He drove home, somewhat recklessly, and locked the door behind him once he arrived. It took mere seconds for him to collapse on the sofa with a bottle of scotch. He wasn't planning on drinking until he passed out, he just thought a little alcohol might dim the horror of what he had experienced today.
Death knew his name. Death had come for him. Death would come for him again, just like she had come for so many other people he loved. He knew her face now. He knew she was inevitable.
It scared him out of his mind.