Work Text:
one night, like many other nights before it, odis saw the future.
he was laying in his too-small bed, alone. he’d been like that a few days, alone at night. it was becoming increasingly rare, but it still happened, himself in his own bed in his own dark apartment, cramped and cavernous at the same time, empty and full at the same time, a home and a prison. it was late, between night and morning, but he didn’t know when.
odis was half-awake, and he blinked, and the future came to him in flashes. children crossing a line. donatello fadda shot. two women in prison stripes running along the highway. another woman, this one with red hair, baking a pie. a marshal in brown, with a devil’s smile. calamita dead and broken in a field, a dark sky above. odis dead in his own car.
odis had seen the future before. and he couldn’t change it, could only accept it as he saw it. lord knows he’d tried to change it before and failed. it was like a cruel joke, as if god (and did odis even believe in god?) was saying look at this, this is what's coming for you, go fuck yourself. odis started tapping against his own sternum, one two three four five, one two three four five, over and over, trying to calm himself.
“end of the line,” odis mumbled. “more’n i deserve.”
months later, when calamita called to tell odis that he was leaving town for a little while on a wild goose chase, odis didn’t try to stop him. “careful,” odis said. “i’ll see you.”