vampyrepunk
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Summary
And in an instant, it’s like the wave of calm they’d been floating on all day is shattered.
Dennis locks up, wrenching his hand away like he’s been scalded. Because he doesn’t need it. Because if he lets himself have it, then he is greedy. He is selfish.
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When Dennis is regressed, it's easy to ignore all the bad that he's been through. But when he is reminded of it, of the heartache he endured as a child, things come crashing down.
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Summary
It is the December after he is found that Denys dares to utter the question out loud. “What is my purpose here?”
Robby is smoking a cigar, fat blunt squeezed between large fingers, slouched against the living room couch. Jack is nursing a beer, dozing in the recliner by the window. And Denys…
Denys is on the floor, legs criss-crossed, with a book in his lap—Theology 101.
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Four months after Jack and Robby find him, Dennis contemplates what it means to live.
Series
- Part 2 of heavy are the wings of an angel damned
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Summary
“A grown-up in a kid’s body,” his mother liked to say. But did they know the extent of the damage they’d done? A child, forced into adulthood before he was ready, thrust into a life of labor, of faith. A faith that he didn’t even really think he believed in, anyway.
And it wasn’t his brothers’ fault. Wasn’t his parents' fault, either. It was the hand he had been dealt, and he would live with it. He would.
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Dennis has a bad regression day. Jack and Robby just want their baby to be okay.
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Heaven has abandoned him, and now, in a human body, he is out of place. Alien. The wings on his back are heavy, much heavier than they ever were before, and they slowly unfurl from around his belly, muscles twitching in pain.
Denys doesn’t move for a while. Doesn’t have the energy to. Agony swallows him whole, chews him up, spits him back out. The mental is almost worse than the physical.
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When Dennis falls from Heaven, it feels like his very soul is being ripped from his body. Funny, then, that he finds it again in two old men.
Series
- Part 1 of heavy are the wings of an angel damned
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Summary
Sweat beads along Dennis’s forehead, drips down his neck, coats his underarms in a thin sheen. Like saliva coats the mouth before vomiting.
His stomach lurches with nausea, his hands tremble. He forces himself to stay standing.
“Whitaker,” comes Donahue’s voice, gentle, cautious. “You should take a minute, man. Get something to drink.” It’s just them in the cubicle, and he can hear chaos beyond the curtains, but he can’t bring himself to move.
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A patient dies on Whitaker's watch. There is not enough room in his body for so much grief.
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