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septembersung · 6 years

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After Life

TVD, post-canon/au-ish. Another time jump. More vampires and Catholicism overlap.

1/7. Til Death Do Us Part 2/7. On the Other Side of the Line 3/7. The Smell of Blood 4/7. Burn

5/7. Eternal Life

It was a warm Friday night in October. The six Salvatores sat around the dining table, exchanging news about their days and relaxing into the weekend. Miranda, a senior in high school, was still in her cheerleading uniform. Ric, a sophomore, was channeling a young Uncle Jeremy vibe with longer hair and a disinterested expression. Bonnie, the middle schooler, had her nose in a book. Unusually, it was youngest, ten year old Antony, who couldn’t be coaxed into sharing something about his day. Damon and Elena traded the wordless but deeply communicative glance of the long-married, and after dessert, Elena deftly ushered the older three to the living room for family board game night while Damon insisted it was Antony’s turn to help him clear the table.

“You cooked, why do you have to clean up too?” Antony complained as they stacked plates, cups, and silverware and carried them to the kitchen.

“Family tradition,” Damon answered easily. “Your Grandpa Gilbert always did the cooking, and I’ve been cooking for Elena pretty much since I met her.”

“Well, the girls should clean up then.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but this is really my clever plan to get you alone and ask what’s bothering you.”

“Why do you think I’m bothered?” Antony grouched, in tones that even Damon recognized as inherited from himself.

“My chattiest child, silent at dinner?” he replied with deliberate casualness. “Don’t play dumb.”

Antony hopped up on the counter and watched his father start rinsing the dishes and loading them carefully in the dishwasher. At last, with a darkly triumphant tone, he announced: “A vampire followed me home from school.”

Damon broke a glass.

The loud, cheerful voices in the living room faltered for a minute, but recovered. Damon knew it would take all the self-control she had to keep Elena from rushing in. He had to sort this out quickly.

“Get the broom, will you?”

Antony slid off the counter and brought it over. Damon began methodically sweeping up the pieces, without looking at his son.

Antony sighed. “She had a big gaudy ring. Moved a little too smooth, too fast. Never saw her look at me but she stayed behind me right up to the edge of town. And,” he added, as if expecting to get in trouble for it, “she was wearing flip flops. I had some vervain on me. I dropped a little out of my pocket on the sidewalk and she went out of her way to avoid it.”

Damon had a white-knuckle grip on the broom. He forced himself to let it go, pick up the dustpan, empty the glass shards into the coffee can they reserved for such moments, put it back on the shelf.

“And you didn’t think this was important enough to mention? I had to drag it out of you?”

Antony looked at his feet. “I don’t know.”

“Think hard. I’m sure you do.”

Damon finished loading the dishwasher and started it. Antony examined a scab on his knee. Damon resisted the urge to pour a shot of bourbon, and instead began scrubbing the already clean counter. Antony slouched against the cabinets.

“I was curious,” Antony said at last. “And she didn’t seem like a threat.”

“And how would you know that?”

“No crazy veins, no red eyes, no super speed… and I’m still alive.”

Vampires, back in Mystic Falls…

“Well, what did she look like?”

“Um… blonde?”

Damon stopped scrubbing and met his son’s eyes. “Long hair? Short? What color eyes?”

“Kind of… medium. And I don’t know.”

“Elena?” Damon called with forced cheerfulness.

His wife poked her head in the kitchen. “Everything okay?” she asked, looking at Antony.

“Have you heard from Caroline lately?”

“No, it’s been… more than a year now, at least. Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Damon, what’s—“

“Just some father-son bonding,” Damon cut her off. “Nothing to worry about.”

Glaring daggers at him, Elena retreated.

“You’re not going to tell her?” Antony asked wonderingly.

“Of course I’m telling her! When I know just what it is that I’m telling her. And when I decide just how much trouble you should be in.”

Antony glared at his father, but he began to look doubtful. “You think it was Aunt Caroline? It’s been a long time, but I thought I’d recognize her.”

“It probably wasn’t. It’s not like her, to come unannounced. Or to stalk a child. And,” he added grudgingly, “I don’t have that kind of luck.”

At last, Antony began to look uneasy. “Am I really in trouble? Are we in danger?”

“Yes, and no - probably not - I don’t know. I have a lot of enemies, Antony. That’s why we take safety so seriously.” Damon folded his arms and considered his youngest child. “Why didn’t you tell me first thing?”

“Because I’m curious!” Antony exploded. “Because I hoped she would talk to me. Because you loved being a vampire but any time it comes up you and mom get so tense, and because vampires live forever. What is the point of any of this—“ he gestured sharply at the crucifix on the kitchen wall— “when vampires live forever and can do whatever they want?”

Oh. Oh. Oh no. Understanding, and relief, and weariness, washed over Damon.

When he and Elena had made the choice to be honest with their children, when each was old enough to understand, about their past and the supernatural side of life in Mystic Falls, they knew it could create problems. Including hard conversations about the “big questions.” The older three had gone through something like this - just a little later. But this was well-charted territory.

“Living forever is not the same thing as eternal life, Antony,” Damon said quietly. “Trust me on that.”

“I don’t see how,” his son muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Eternal life is peace, Antony. It’s eternal happiness. My life as a vampire was never peaceful. And never happy.”

“But... you enjoyed it.”

“When I had my switch flipped, yeah. In a manner of speaking.” Wearily, Damon pushed away whispering memories of speed, the thrill of power, the taste of invincible nights.

Antony was really confused now. “But not the rest of the time?”

“Hedonism isn’t happiness, Antony. I was like a drug addict. It didn’t rule me exactly like it did your Uncle Stefan, but… I was a slave to it. I was completely controlled by my desires. And those desires almost kept me from your mom - who is,” he raised his voice, looking pointedly at the door, “the greatest happiness I have ever or will ever know on this earth.”

Elena poked her head around the door frame. “How did you know I was listening?”

“The precise instincts of the long-married,” Damon returned seriously.

Elena swatted his arm affectionately and turned to embrace her youngest. He leaned into her hug, burying his face in her shoulder. Damon was startled by how tall he suddenly seemed.

“Antony, why didn’t you come to me?” Elena asked.

He shrugged.

“I think it’s time you had a chat with Fr. Cyriacus.”

Antony groaned. “Why?”

“Do we really need to dignify that with an answer?” Damon asked.

“Am I in trouble?”

Damon and Elena glanced at each other. There was an unknown vampire out there, who might or might not know them, or about them, and wish them harm. And their son needed their help.

“Tomorrow you’ll do a an extra chore or two,” Elena said after a moment. “And you’ll make an appointment with Fr. Cyriacus - just like your siblings have done. And we’ll move on.”

“But you need to remember,” Damon added, “to always come to us about these things. It keeps you - all of us - safe.”

Antony nodded quickly. “I will. I’m sorry.”

“Go pick out a game with the others,” Damon said, squeezing his shoulder. “We’ll be right out.”

Alone in the kitchen, Damon and Elena regarded each other seriously. After a long silence, Damon asked, “Does it ever feel to you, too, like we’ll never be done… paying back? Like we’ll never be… free?”

Elena frowned. “You think this is a punishment?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Everyone has a past, Damon. And lots of people make choices when they’re younger that affect the whole rest of their lives. You could be an ex-mobster and we’d have the same worries. You said it yourself - peace comes later. It’s not a part of this life.”

Damon scoffed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He stretched his shoulders, rubbed his eyes. “I’m just… tired. I never thought i could feel so tired.”

“Well, you’re getting old,” Elena teased, wrapping her arms around his waist. “But gray looks good on you.”

“Good thing I’m married to an ever-youthful, ever-beautiful woman,” he responded, and leaned for a kiss.

Several minutes later, it was Miranda who looked in to see what had happened them. “Ugh, forget it, guys,” she called back to her siblings. “They’re just being gross again.”

Guiltily, and laughing a little at themselves, Damon and Elena extracted themselves and went to join whatever game their children had chosen.

On the way, Damon turned the deadbolt on the front door. It didn’t bring him any comfort.

#my tvd fic after life

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therumbellehappyendingaward-blog · 6 years

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Chapter 2 writer: @avatoh

PROMPT: WINTER

AO3: HERE

He waited for Belle to come back downstairs with the topic of kisses that was posed by her trashy magazine still on his mind:

Describe your favorite kiss.

Kisses could be such beautiful things. Their magic could be incredibly strong, strong enough to break even the nastiest of curses as proven time-and-time again by the citizens in the small town of Storybrooke. Kisses were marvellous. He knew the power of true love’s kiss as well as anyone, he’d experienced it first hand with Belle, the love of his life. Kisses held power. Romantic kisses could move mountains and be oh-so special but there were also every-day kisses that were equally as special in their own little way. His thumb brushed against his own lower lip as he gave the subject some more deep thought. What he and Belle had, well, it was remarkable. Could there be anything or anyone who could come close to sharing what they had together? It seemed not. When he kissed Belle, the world stopped turning and all he felt inside himself was peace and love.

After giving his absolute favorite kiss some thought, he narrowed the kiss down to roughly five moments: all special and significant to him. Then, out of those five, he decided on what was really The Favorite Kiss. In fact, he knew for certain what it was after his lengthy internal deliberation. There was a kiss that actually had immediately stood out to him as soon as he had read the question in the magazine. Others popped into his mind as he gave the question some more thought, of course; but in the end, his first gut reaction thought won over them all. A favorite kiss wasn’t exactly something that he hadn’t given a lot of thought to before now. At least today, he now knew what it was.

Belle was upstairs all the while he was having his own private revelation. She was still there and he had some time, so he decided to make the two of them some hot cocoa from scratch while he waited for her. It had been awhile since the two of them had enjoyed a warm beverage while they spent some alone time together at night.

Belle usually read their daughter an entire picture book before bed to help her fall asleep, so he had the time to cook. Besides, making hot cocoa in a saucepan while snow was falling from the sky wasn’t the biggest chore in the world. It was fitting. Making it from scratch took a little extra time, but the effort was well worth it. He gathered the ingredients from the cupboard and measured them out to start making it.

After rolling up his sleeves, and a fair amount of stirring, he finished with making the cocoa. It was just how Belle liked it, not overly sweet, but not too bitter. It had a well-rounded taste to it despite all the sugar he had added.

He poured out the beverage into two matching cups and dressed the top of the beverage with a dollop of whipped cream and a light sprinkle of cinnamon. It looked pretty good and he couldn’t wait to drink it with her.

After all of that, Belle was still nowhere to be seen, so he started washing up the dishes as he took a small taste-test sip from his own cup. It was absolutely piping hot, which was good for him; the drink would probably perfect for Belle in about 5 or so minutes. In living together, he discovered the prime window for beverage drinking for his wife would be about 5 to 15 minutes while his was usually 0 to 5.

Belle sometimes would take a little sip of a freshly made drink thinking she could take it and then wince in disappointment when she found it too hot. The sad reality was that Belle usually didn’t take her drinks hot, whether she liked it or not. Often, she would make herself a hot cup of tea or coffee and then get distracted by work later returning to find the beverage tepid and undrinkable. His wife was adorable and knowing little facts like this about Belle made him feel closer to her. Who would have ever thought the Dark One would know the coffee and tea drinking habits of a beautiful princess?

He scrubbed at the dishes some more and began to dry them, glancing up the stairs as if she would come down any moment. Perhaps he should join his two girls for the rest of the bedtime story, he thought. He decided against it. She had to be down any minute now. His eyes darted away from the stairs, back to his reality where his scattered thoughts changed coarse again as his eyes trailed away from the drying dishes back to the magazine left out on the table.

“What are you thinking about?” came Belle’s voice as she approached her husband, startling him from glance at the magazine.

“I was just thinking about you and Rose,” he had answered, truthfully.

“Oh?”

He moved from where he was standing, meeting his wife halfway between the stairs and the kitchen. They kissed as he handed her the steaming cup of cocoa he had made her. Belle picked up her magazine that she had discarded on the table and they sat down together in their living room in front of the fireplace. The snow outside their window was falling down harder now as the sun had completely set. It was nice. Belle opened up her magazine and took a sip of her drink, remarking that it was good. He just stared out the window, thankful for the moment.

“When it’s snowing like this, it always makes me think of when we first brought Rosalyn home. I can’t believe how much she’s grown since then,” he said, warmly. “It seems like just yesterday, not a whole year ago. Do you remember that day?”

“Yes, I remember,” Belle answered with a smile. “It was so cold that day, I could see my breath, we got home and sat in front of the fireplace for hours just looking at her: our precious daughter. She fell asleep in your arms. You didn’t want to wake her.”

“I was so scared,” he nodded, recalling the events of that very first winter evening they had shared together as a complete family. “You both fell asleep and I didn’t want to drop her; didn’t want to wake you, being so tired as you were at the time, so I stayed awake watching over you two.”

Belle laughed softly at the memory. “It was a tiring day. Thank you for letting me sleep.” Her eyes which were previously focused on the magazine now glanced up at her husband briefly as she talked. Their eyes met and she gave him a more mischievous smile than her previous one.

In that moment, he realised her true purpose of laying the magazine down on the table the way she had done so before taking her daughter to bed: she had most likely wanted him to read it. Was there any reason for this? Was it her intention for him to read the article about the kisses? Did she mean to tell him something by this? More importantly, did Belle have a favorite kiss, herself? Was it the same as his?

It was true that the two of them had shared countless kisses but what one was Belle’s absolute favorite? She just had to have a favorite one, of course. He opened his mouth, about to ask her the question on his mind, only closing it seconds later. If he asked her then she most certainly would know that he’d been reading her magazine, although he was pretty sure she had left it there, lying open the way it was so that he would, in fact, read it.

She knew that sometimes he could be curious and her actions before leaving the room were far too suspicious for him not to take a peek of what she was reading. She knew that as well as he did that he would.

Though, he thought, perhaps her smiles from before while she was looking at the magazine didn’t even pertain to the kiss question. He had only just glanced at one of the two visible pages before the question about kisses caught his eye. It was possible that on the other displayed page there was something along the lines of a sex advice column or something else that she had read that made her smile. He wished that he had spent more time looking at the magazine before he put it down.

Now Belle was calmly sipping at her hot cocoa and leafing through the pages of her magazine. She was still smiling at him every now and then. Damn, he loved her smile.

Belle smiling, well, that could mean almost anything positive. It would be hard to know what it really meant in this case. Her smiles, just like their daughter��s, were so pure and they brought so much joy to his heart to see it. He’s had so many fond memories of the three of them all smiling together, having fun. Just the other morning, the three of them had went outside and had their time of their lives playing in the mushy excuse of what could be called snow. Rosie would be thrilled to see what tonight’s snowfall brought.

“How was your day today, my love?” he asked her.

“It was real nice,” she responded, her eyes momentarily stilled on the magazine before she decided to simply close it and save it again for another time. “I’m very grateful the library has heating, but I’m glad to be home. It’s more comfortable here. There’s always this constant chill while I’m away. It feels like I’m never quite warm enough until I’m home with the two of you.”

A lot of the resident’s liked to gather in the warm public space during the cold winter days and Belle was always there to provide them the warmth with her library. In turn, he had mainly been in charge of taking care of Roslyn as of late.

“Our day was great too. She ate all her steamed carrots today.”

“Really!” Belle exclaimed. “All by herself?”

“With a little complaining, yes, she did.”

“I can’t wait to take the next week off,” Belle sighed. “I feel like I’m missing so much.” She scooted closer to her husband and burrowed into her usual place at his side. He wrapped his arm around her, her cold body and his warm body mingling until the two of them shared a regulated temperature.

Belle sighed contently. She put her drink down on a coaster and looked up at him. Oh. She wanted a kiss. He obliged her by reaching his head down to give her one. She smiled as their lips met.

“Hmmm,” she hummed. “Is there more where that came from?” she quipped.

“Always,” he answered. “There’s always more where that came from.”

“Good. Kisses from you are always my favorite,” she beamed. “I can always go for more.”

#group green #finish this #rumbelle #avatoh

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romancatholicreflections · 6 years

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22nd March >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections on John 8:51-59 for Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent: ‘Before Abraham ever was, I am’. Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent Gospel (Europe, Africa, New Zealand, Australia & Canada) John 8:51-59 Your father Abraham saw my Day and was glad Jesus said to the Jews: ‘I tell you most solemnly, whoever keeps my word will never see death.’ The Jews said, ‘Now we know for certain that you are possessed. Abraham is dead, and the prophets are dead, and yet you say, “Whoever keeps my word will never know the taste of death.” Are you greater than our father Abraham, who is dead? The prophets are dead too. Who are you claiming to be?’ Jesus answered: ‘If I were to seek my own glory that would be no glory at all; my glory is conferred by the Father, by the one of whom you say, “He is our God” although you do not know him. But I know him, and if I were to say: I do not know him, I should be a liar, as you are liars yourselves. But I do know him, and I faithfully keep his word. Your father Abraham rejoiced to think that he would see my Day; he saw it and was glad.’ The Jews then said, ‘You are not fifty yet, and you have seen Abraham!’ Jesus replied: ‘I tell you most solemnly, before Abraham ever was, I Am.’ At this they picked up stones to throw at him; but Jesus hid himself and left the Temple. Gospel (USA) John 8:51-59 Your father, Abraham, rejoiced because he saw my day. Jesus said to the Jews: “Amen, amen, I say to you, whoever keeps my word will never see death.” So the Jews said to him, “Now we are sure that you are possessed. Abraham died, as did the prophets, yet you say, ‘Whoever keeps my word will never taste death.’ Are you greater than our father Abraham, who died? Or the prophets, who died? Who do you make yourself out to be?” Jesus answered, “If I glorify myself, my glory is worth nothing; but it is my Father who glorifies me, of whom you say, ‘He is our God.’ You do not know him, but I know him. And if I should say that I do not know him, I would be like you a liar. But I do know him and I keep his word. Abraham your father rejoiced to see my day; he saw it and was glad.” So the Jews said to him, “You are not yet fifty years old and you have seen Abraham?” Jesus said to them, “Amen, amen, I say to you, before Abraham came to be, I AM.” So they picked up stones to throw at him; but Jesus hid and went out of the temple area. Reflections (6) (i) Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent In today’s gospel reading, from the fourth gospel, Jesus is portrayed as making an extraordinary claim for himself, ‘I tell you most solemnly, before Abraham ever was, I Am’. Jesus’ statement can be understood against the background of the opening verse of this fourth gospel, ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God’. The evangelist is claiming that Jesus, the Word of God, was with God in that mysterious moment before the beginning of creation. If that is true, then Jesus is obviously before Abraham ever was. We have been reading from the fourth gospel for nearly two weeks now, and this gospel makes claims for Jesus that go beyond the claims of any of the other three gospels. It is the latest gospel to be written and it represents the fruit of much reflection over many years as to the identity of Jesus. It is perhaps not surprising that this gospel ends with the statement that if everything Jesus did were written down, ‘the world itself could not contain the books that would be written’. In other words, there is more to Jesus than a world full of books could express. We might be tempted to think that there is less to Jesus than the gospels give us. Perhaps, they have exaggerated who Jesus is. However, it is certainly the conviction of the fourth evangelist and, probably of the other three evangelists, that their written gospel is only a small window onto a mystery that cannot be fully expressed in words. Jesus is even more attractive, more mysterious, than the gospels present him. We will only come to know the Lord in all his fullness when we encounter him in eternity. In the meantime, we are thankful to God for the gospels which give us such wonderful access to the Lord, God’s Word in human form. And/Or (ii) Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent Jesus makes many great promises in the gospel of John and we find one of them in this morning’s gospel reading, ‘whoever keeps my word will never know the taste of death’. Jesus declares that his words are the source of life, and if we listen to his word and try to live by it then we will share in God’s own life, here and now and, more fully, beyond the moment of our physical death. Elsewhere in John’s gospel, Peter says to Jesus, ‘you have the words of eternal life’. In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus declares that he faithful keeps his Father’s word. Our calling is to faithfully keep Jesus’ word. Our relationship with Jesus is to be modelled on his relationship with the Father. If we faithfully keep Jesus’ word, as he faithfully kept his Father’s word, then we will know its life-giving power in our lives. We greatly value the gift of the Eucharist, because it is the bread of life. We equally value the Lord’s word, because it is the word of life. And/Or (iii) Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent In this morning’s gospel reading the Jews ask Jesus the question, ‘Are you greater than our father, Abraham?’ It was inconceivable to them that anyone could be greater than Abraham, or greater than Moses for that matter. In the course of his reply to that question Jesus says, ‘I tell you solemnly, before Abraham ever was, I am’. Jesus claims to have existed before Abraham. That saying of Jesus brings us back to the opening sentence of John’s gospel, ‘In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God’. The evangelist was aware that such an extraordinary claim could not be made of anyone else, not even Abraham. We look to Jesus as the one who was with God before the creation of the world, who was God, and who became flesh for our sakes, and in becoming flesh, became obedient unto death, even death on a cross, in the words of Saint Paul. That is the extraordinary paradox at the heart of our faith, that the crucified one is none other than the Word who was with God in the beginning, before Abraham was. Next week is Holy Week when we reflect on this paradox and bow before its mystery. And/Or (iv) Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent The passion and death of Jesus was the climax of the hostility that some people directed at Jesus. That hostility is very evident in this morning’s gospel reading. The Jewish leaders were ready to stone Jesus for what he had been saying. It is a paradox that Jesus who was put to death came for one purpose only, to give life, to draw people into the life of God. He declares to his hostile audience in this morning’s gospel reading, ‘whoever keeps my word will never see death… will never know the taste of death’. It is an extraordinary promise. If we hear the Lord’s word and live by it we will never lose the life that his word gives us. We will of course experience physical death, but if we give ourselves over to the Lord’s word we will begin to live with a life which even physical death will not destroy. The life Jesus speaks about is the fruit of our relationship with him, and that relationship is not broken by death but, on the contrary, deepens beyond death. And/Or (v) Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus says that he does not seek his own glory but that his glory is conferred by his Father. In that culture, seeking glory, honour, renown for oneself was a very important value. In this regard, as in so many other ways, Jesus stood against the culture. He did not seek glory for himself but he trusted in God to give him glory in God’s own time. He was critical of those who sought glory from others, who looked for earthly honours. In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus says, ‘I faithfully keep his word (God’s word)’. This was the driving force of Jesus’ life, not seeking glory for himself from others. He knew that if he faithfully kept God’s word, he would receive glory from God. The driving force of Jesus’ life is to be the driving force of all of our lives. Our primary desire as Jesus’ followers is to faithfully keep God’s word, as he did. If we keep trying to be faithful to God’s word, as spoken and lived by Jesus, then we are assured that we will receive glory from God; we will be honoured by God, and this is the only glory and honour worth having. And/Or (vi) Thursday, Fifth Week of Lent In last Monday’s gospel reading, the religious leaders were ready to stone a woman whom they had brought to Jesus. In this morning’s gospel reading, the same group pick up stones in order to stone Jesus. They wanted to stone the woman because she had sinned by committing adultery; they wanted to stone Jesus because of the claims that he was making for himself, such as his claim that he existed before Abraham was born. This would have been considered by them as the sin of blasphemy. A certain kind of religious conviction can express itself in violence towards others who are perceived to be sinners for one reason or another. We are very aware of that phenomenon today. The worshippers of a certain kind of God feel obliged to kill those who are perceived as worshipping a very different God to their own. In contrast, genuine religion drives people to seek communion with those who are very different from them. Jesus was not stoned on this occasion, but as we know he would eventually be crucified. Yet, God would raise Jesus from the dead and send him back into the world where he had been crucified to continue proclaiming his message of God’s love for the world, including for those who crucified God’s Son. This is the God whom we are called to reveal in our lives. We are to bear witness to God the Life-Giver. In the power of the Spirit, we are to be live-givers, even to those who wish us harm. Fr. Martin Hogan, Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin, D03 AO62, Ireland. Email: [email protected] or [email protected] Parish Website: www.stjohnsclontarf.ie Please join us via our webcam. Twitter: @SJtBClontarfRC. Facebook: St John the Baptist RC Parish, Clontarf. Tumblr: Saint John the Baptist Parish, Clontarf, Dublin.

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