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02 January 2008 @ 09:38 pm
Brimstone Fic: Stone  
Written for yuletide 2007
Crossposted to lucifen


Title: Stone
Pairing/Characters: Zeke
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: Series
Summary: The importance of doing his job is what gets Ezekiel Stone out of bed every morning.
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ

Other comments are housed at Yuletide.


He's tired.

More than all the layers of clothing he drags around amidst stares in the California sunshine, more than the attitude of a seen it all cop back on the beat, more than the onus of the job he's here to do - he feels it.

Writing it off as the weight of his sin, this millstone around his neck that has him sloughing through each day with no energy in his step and no light in his eyes isn't working. Gravity is no greater when the pull of Hell is stronger. He knows this, but he feels the tug anyway, a constant reminder of the last fifteen years - a reminder of all he left behind and all he'll never have.

He seeks out small joys in life: Chinese food, candy bars, rollerblading... They don't satisfy. He enjoys a brief moment of rediscovery, but once it's over the feeling fades so quickly, dissipating as ethereal as a daydream. It's as if the taste of ashes isn't just a metaphor; nothing is as good as he remembers and when it's done the emptiness creeps back in like a cockroach into his dingy hotel room.

It doesn't make sense, this apathy towards redemption.

He should be kissing the ground to be out of Hell and getting a second chance at life.

He should be thanking the Devil for releasing him to do good in the world, not cursing him each time he appears.

He should...

He should be with her...

His eyes fall closed and he slips into the ether of memory.

Rosalyn laughs, running through the apartment while they playfully taunt each other - a lovers' game of cat and mouse that ends with her in his arms and him kissing her face, murmuring how much he loves her.

Like static, flashes of images invade his happy recollection: Rosalyn huddled under the shower crying, her body coiled in a ball as far from him in the bed as she can be, her recoiling from his outstretched hand...

That last image cuts him like a stab to his useless heart: knowing his own wife found his touch repugnant - as if he was guilty too - even if his only sin was being born a man.

Although now he wonders if he shouldn't have been born at all.

He knows he did good things in his life and he knows he sinned. But putting Rosalyn's life in danger was a greater sin in his book than killing Gilbert Jax ever was.

And he's paid a far higher price.

He should have listened to the Devil - isn't that a mind-blowing concept - and stayed away from her. He should have never sought her out, never exposed her to his world - his evil tainting her innocent bliss.

Now he has a fresh hell: the familiar lavender scent of her favorite shampoo in his nostrils, the porcelain smoothness of her widow pale skin lingering ghostlike under his fingertips and the gut twisting image of his beloved wife marked in blood by his nemesis Ash.

He thought he couldn’t hate anyone more than the Devil, more than Gilbert Jax.

He was wrong.

Holding Rosalyn in his arms again then leaving her was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Every fiber of his being screamed out to maintain the contact - to touch, to kiss, to praise the heavens for her safe return into his arms.

But she wouldn't stay safe, not as long as Ash was out there with her sick fascination for him and millennia worth of Hell spawned powers to use against him.

So he does his job.

His gun's still warm as he enters the hotel, the spot on his back where the latest tattoo burned off still smarting as he waves a hand at Max, shutting her down before she can ask, comment, joke about his beat up condition again. It's late and he's heard it all before.

He makes it to his room and locks the door behind him - force of habit but useless given the Devil's ability to just appear at a whim. He knows it won't keep any damned souls after him out either, but he sleeps better imagining it helps.

He collapses onto the bed, coat still on and stares at the ceiling.

Another week means another set of sightless eyes staring back at him as a swirling maelstrom sucks a damned soul back down into the depths.

In weak moments he feels tempted to jump in there with them, spinning through the circles of Hell until he lands in a place where he knows what to expect for the rest of eternity. Knowing what's to come is a comfort, even in Hell. Being on edge every day up here on earth is wearing at him: the constant vigilance, never knowing when a damned soul will materialize and try to put his lights out forever...

Being a cop was a hard job - a good job, but a hard one.

This? The phrase Hell on earth comes to mind and he almost laughs, wondering if this is a better version of Hell for him than what he had down below in the Devil's eyes. It certainly hurts - bright hot shards of pain slicing his chest: each targeting his heart, each named Rosalyn.

He lets out a long sigh and tries to drag himself up long enough to undress for bed. With a grumble he lays back down, relishing this tiny respite too much to give it up just yet. It was a long day, but there's another one tomorrow whether he likes it or not.

He's got a job to do.

But he's tired.

More than that, he's weary.

But his job is important and that's what keeps him going.

The Devil may think his job is sending 113 damned souls back to Hell.

Let him think that.

Ezekiel Stone knows his real job is to ensure his wife's safety.

Rosalyn will live a long life if he has anything to say about it and none of the damned souls are going to get anywhere near her. He won't let it happen. Not again. Not if he has to send every last one of them back to Hell with his bare hands.

He wakes up early, having fallen asleep in his clothes again. He huffs at himself and stretches, rising even as he looks longingly back at the bed.

A warm bed and a soft pillow may be the only glimmers of heaven he'll ever experience, but enticing as they are he turns his back on them and goes to work.

Time to give the Devil his due...

-666-
 
 
 
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on January 3rd, 2008 05:39 am (UTC)
Confession
Brimstone!

New fandom!

(Okay, new *old* fandom, but exciting nonetheless!)

This fic was written for recipient Zai as part of the 2007 Yuletide challenge.

The request was for Zeke gen and I was so happy to see it! Of all the requests I could have gotten in the Brimstone fandom that would have been my first choice.

As much as I love John Glover as the Devil (bah on Reaper's cheap imitation!) it was Peter Horton's wonderful Ezekiel Stone who drew me in and kept me in love with the series over the last decade.

For those of you who are Supernatural fans you should consider watching Brimstone during the writers strike. It has a very similar feel, only with more religious overtones. Dark, angsty, supernatural... Yeah, they're kin. My Miracles friends would enjoy it as well for having a bit more humor than our show normally allows, but also having the gravitas of hellfire and damnation we've come to know and love. ;-)

I find myself totally annoyed that the show Reaper has horribly ripped Brimstone off in terms of premise, but I console myself with the fact that Brimstone - while canceled before its time - is still the far better show.

Nobody beats (John Glover as) the Devil!

Hehehe

This was my first ever Yuletide and I wrote five fic - three of them in new fandoms. I had a great time and I'm glad I listened to the friends on my F-list who were Yuletide regulars and joined in. For someone like me who almost exclusively likes smaller fandoms it's a match made in heaven.

Or, somewhere lower when it comes to Brimstone. /grins/

Thanks go to trascendenza for being a positive influence, helping me take the plunge into the Brimstone fandom, especially with her haikuathon challenges. (Go read all the Brimstone haikus - including mine!) Thanks as well to delgaserasca for introducing me to the haikuathons in the first place. Without that push, I'd have not written Brimstone haiku, which whet my appetite for real fic, thus leading me to this very point in time where I publish my first one. And finally, thanks to everyone who read and commented on the fic at the Yuletide archive. You helped make my first Yuletide ever quite squeeworthy. (And the IRC crowd! You guys are awesome!)

/waves to the people who came over from lucifen/
I hope you all like my first fic in your fandom. I hope to have more soon!

So Zai, thank you for the great prompt! I hope you enjoy your present for a long time to come. Our tiny fandom needs all the fans it can get.

Very special thanks to beta melissima for her assistance with this fic.

Thanks,

Emma DeMarais
Karen: moonlight josefbyrons_brain on January 3rd, 2008 09:56 am (UTC)
Great fic... I used to love this series.... why isn't out on DVD? I would love to see it again...
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on January 31st, 2008 11:32 pm (UTC)
It *needs* to be on DVD! /kicks/

Yay for you knowing the show! I was afraid I'd be the only one.

So who is that in your icon? Looks a bit like Josef from Moonlight...
Karen: moonlight josefbyrons_brain on February 1st, 2008 11:01 am (UTC)
Yes it is Josef.... I'm a big fan of the show.....
ladygray99ladygray99 on January 3rd, 2008 04:59 pm (UTC)
Yeah. Brimstone fic! :)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on January 31st, 2008 11:32 pm (UTC)
Yay for someone knowing Brimstone! /is chuffed/
ladygray99ladygray99 on February 1st, 2008 06:16 pm (UTC)
Another one of those great series that died too young with too much potential.
fredbassettfredbassett on January 3rd, 2008 11:21 pm (UTC)
Sounds a fascinating series and I enjoyed the fic :)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on January 31st, 2008 11:33 pm (UTC)
Thanks!

Another old series I heartily recommend. I think there were 13 of this one and John Glover was YUMMY DELICIOUS EVIL as the Devil. Best Satan EVER. Hehehe