Ok, I don't know if this will be common, because I don't mind making huge chapters, but Chapter IV was, compared to others in this story (Except Chapter V… I'll explain when we get there), pretty large. I can easily write down a 40K one and upload it as is, but I'll try to cut all of you some slack. Try, being the keyword here. I don't promise to do this often because I find it tedious. In any case: Another month with two chapters (Well, four if you consider they are divided in parts).
This will be the last month I make more than one chapter for this story for… probably a while? I plan on getting back to Ouroboros too, so I'll do my best to update both stories monthly from now on once more. As such just hammering at this one is not going to be viable. Sorry in advance for those that aren't interested in Ouroboros, but *I* am itchin' to get back into it \o3o/! That, and my own projects do consume time, so I am doing what I can here.
With this note delivered, let's get into the chapter. Part II will be uploaded tomorrow for those tuning in in time for this particular update, and Chapter V's two parts will be online the 3rd and 4th (Unless something comes up, but there shouldn't be a problem).
*** Onto the Story ***
Death comes different for all. Most people don't want it to arrive at all, some await it with bated breath. A few seek it for many, usually personal, reasons.
Jack Mayberry was of the latter proclivity, in fact he had been for a while now.
Though he couldn't correctly think why right now. What was go-.
Oh.
Yeah. Suicide.
You know that a lot of people trying to kill themselves have a huge little problem called 'regret'? Jack didn't. Nor right now at least. Though he had expected a better result from trying to replicate the old, tried and tested hangman.
Fucking genetics.
It probably didn't help that time seemed to skid to a fucking stop now that air was becoming scarce. But why did it have to feel this painful? That was the only thing that bothered Jack. He was no stranger to pain, sad as it was to say such a thing, and this wasn't the first time he had been strangled, though past attempts had people getting sent straight to the hospital with a well placed ball kick, a broken jaw or that time Jack shattered a 'would be friend's' sternum bone. Not enough to cause real damage beyond a LOT of pain, but still impressive.
In fact, him playing the 'ding-a-ling' act as he instinctively trashed was, at least in part, caused by that asshole.
Fuck. His mind was going back to this morning. Happiness achieved. Why is dying this much of a bi-.
*** Hours Prior ***
Jack Mayberry cracked his neck.
It still bothered him. Toshing around his bed was a nonstop exercise as of late.
Sleeping wasn't coming easy now, not that it had in some time. In fact it was worse than usual. Things had been degrading these past months. Even his usual methods of escapism weren't working. Sadness was not always easy to dodge, much less when it had been hitting this hard for so long.
The young man, on the cusp of hitting twenty two, looked at what little vices he was willing to buy: Ice cream and junk food.
A rarity for him.
Back in the 'old days', you'd expect nerds to be thin, bespectacled and acne ridden nobodies, or fat slobs with neckbeards and living in momma's basement. You know, the usual stereotypes. Jack Mayberry was a nerd, an old school game nerd, fixated on the hardest, most unforgiving games of old and the rare gem from this new age. He was a man that rarely left his home and whose job had been, luckily for him, a well paying one both before depression came to stay, much to his mom's surprise.
And chagrin. Sarah had wanted him to be more sociable, but she accepted that Jack was good at something she didn't understand or like that much.
I mean, how could she not? You don't know how much cash people are willing to shill for things they like. And in the modern gaming climate? People like Jack, lovers of hardcore, well crafted games with a decent plot? They could make a lot of dough. Surprisingly easy to do too! You just didn't have to make a shit game meant to 'please everyone' and instead 'pleased no one'.
It didn't hurt that he wasn't bad looking either. Well, it didn't help when it came to the games, no. It helped in other ways though!
Short blonde hair in a buzz cut style. Much like his mom and his… mother… Jack's hair could reach his damn ass if he didn't cut it very regularly, once a week at least. Beautiful green eyes like his mom and, again, like his… mother. Unlike the both of them, Jack's chin was strong and rugged, his face, while gentle, having a very masculine and rugged look since puberty hit him. He was broad shouldered, fair skinned, with few to no blemishes, young man too. His above average looks were probably the only good thing his sperm donor gave him if Jack had to bet, much like his facial features. At around 1.84-85m of height, he wasn't huge by any means, but he had a muscular chest, clear abs, solid arms and legs that could kick down a door if he wanted to.
Jack was no Adonis by any means, but while two to four hours a day were spent playing games as a streamer, working with his 'colleagues' (another two motherfucking 'very special' nerds) producing indie games, or helping fans and friends alike with their own games/projects, Jack kept his usual schedule: Another 2 hours to 3 hours of training.
And he did this for two reasons.
One: No school, fuck that. Jack was mostly homeschooled by his mom since he was small and he had learned anything else he needed by himself. One of the few things his mother's line had going for them was their intellect, with the only decent example being his mom, mostly because she liked to use her head. It had helped Jack a great deal, though his own determination and desire to avoid crowds had pushed him in no small measure too.
Two: His health demanded it. Partly his mental health, partly his physical one.
His grandmother and oldest living relative, for a definition of living anyway, was a heavily addicted woman that, while not even sixty, was basically confined to a medical bed for however long she had left. From a young age Jack had known the woman was not only a bad mother, but a bad person in general. Not fully her fault though; her own parents and grandparents, from what Jack had learned, were far, far worse. Their family had just that kind of history. Hell, it was bad enough that Jack's grandmother fled here when she was fourteen! Worse yet? No one seemed to have ever bothered searching for her.
Talk about a shitty family indeed.
And his birth mother? Oh, fuck the woman. Just as bad, if not worse. No, wait… Yes, she was in fact probably worse than Jack's grandmother; not only did she have Jack at 19, she offloaded him to her 17 year old sister before fucking off, never to be seen again. All Jack and his mom had managed to learn across the years was that Jack's mother had been into nearly every damn drug she could get her hands on. The worst part? She was a medical miracle in the worst package: Apparently ignoring virtually every negative effect (even addiction itself), only enjoying the positives, the high and the pleasure.
Jack wasn't so lucky.
Since he was a young boy Jack had suffered from ill health. And by ' ill health' Jack would tell you: I was given less than ten years of life at best, three at worst.
But you know what? He beat it.
His mom was there for him every day of his life. Sarah Mayberry could be qualified as his aunt in paper and blood, but she was, and would forever be, his mom. And her love, dedication and desire for him to pull through had been the main factor for Jack's survival.
Or at least he liked to romanticize it that way.
A decent lifestyle also helped, true. But Jack would always put his mom's efforts first.
Jack did not work well with others, but he was not a shut in child, though he tried. He just preferred small groups, or impersonal conversations like being online or on the phone. This gave him a lot of time, a lot of time he had spent early in his life doing a lot of physical activities, not just playing games or fantasizing.
It was lucky of him that his mom found him trying to imitate one of those TV training sessions. It was even better luck that Jack found himself enjoying the burn very early on. This exercise brought in regular damage to his body, damage that he regenerated, that strengthened his originally weak physical form and killed the weak while bringing in the strong in him.
That strength he and his mom nurtured, and decent eating (complemented with some days splurging on junk food, like today), was, in more scientific terms, what had managed to push Jack past his original expiration date. Jack knew that, had he not found interest in bettering himself, he should've died. At the time it had been sobering, despite his young age, for he understood that if he hadn't been around his mom would've been sad, just as sad as Jack was now.
It, uh, didn't help with the mental problems. Those were the main reasons behind Jack's dislike of groups and preference for being by himself or with those he trusted.
It was also the reason why he had been eating like shit for the past three months and why Jack had been staring at even more junk food for five minutes now.
"... She'd always scold me when I made a joke with these." Jack grabbed a pack of Noggers. He loved to tease his mom with an edgy joke. Sarah had a very spicy sense of humor behind closed doors, but she always scolded him to ensure he wouldn't get in trouble in public. "But now she'd tell me to just stop buying this crap…"
One of the things that was strangely positive about his 'not giving a fuck' approach as of late? He used shity clothes that he didn't mind losing.
Because the overripe tomato that landed on his side would've messed up any of his favorite shirts otherwise.
"..." It didn't surprise Jack, though. This had been growing far too common. "Ulises… I am going to crack your skull one of these days."
Ulises Gains was one of the few people that Jack had tried to be friends with, in person, in his early age. He was also the man that, during their teenage years, had stabbed Jack in the back in a way that prompted what both Ulises and Jack had dubbed 'retarded neanderthal rage'.
Because Ulises had almost destroyed Sarah's life. And no one messed with Jack's mom.
Absolutely fucking NO ONE.
"Oh, are you?" The voice of Ulises came, unsurprisingly, from his side. "Come on, I dare ya."
Jack turned and, surprising no one, there was Ulises. Alone this time. Green eyes glaring at Jack.
The man was barely shorter than Jack, but with a much darker complexion, almost permanently bronzed like he had been under the sun just the right time. Jack had only asked him if he was a mix or something like that out of autistic curiosity, but to this day Ulises hadn't told him, and Jack had since learned not to care about such things. He just hated the redheaded and freckles fucker enough that any other detail was, simply put, unimportant.
Though Ulises had been THE reason Jack started training, and it showed. As a child Ulises had been much shorter than Jack, but compact AND strong.
Age did not make Ulises remain small, though he was still slightly smaller than Jack height wise, and since Ulises had always been conscious about his small body, he had been absolutely focused on training or playing from a very early age. The logical conclusion? Bodybuilding. He was rippling with muscles everywhere, had many scars and old superficial marks that denoted the many times he had done something stupid or gotten cocky, but his current build spoke of perseverance, tenacity and a healing factor to be envied. From top to bottom Ulises was broader and sturdier than his perceived nemesis, once 'friend', and as such the general cockiness of the young man was warranted.
Though it also spoke of his general attitude. Ulises was missing a few teeth, his nose was crooked from a previous fight long ago and while he never got a really bad fracture, his body had a lot of old wounds that had nothing to do with training. He was also very egocentric, though not narcissistic, but being proved wrong or called out on a bluff got you in hot water with him.
Hell, that was what almost got Sarah into problems. Telling him that he was a little snot almost got Sarah arrested for 'being handsy with a minor'. Luckily Jack found out and made sure to settle things with Ulises.
As mentioned, it ended with Ulises choking Jack and Jack messing up Ulises' chest.
That event also started their enmity. Not exactly a surprising development.
"Ulises. We are in a supermarket." Jack deadpanned as he glared at his fellow young man. "Security is looking at these cameras. I can see one of them coming over here. Of course I am not going to bash your skull inwards."
Ulises, for his part, only smirked. "But you wanna."
"Don't tempt me." Because Jack wanted to. He was almost crushing the box of Noggers in his hand, not that it would've been that hard. "I don't have time for your bullshit."
Jack was many things. Few of them were 'good', but fewer were 'bad'. He would never toot his own horn and say he was amazing. He was just determined to live a happy life. But the word 'happy' was the crux of the question when everything was trying to make him miserable.
Jack had a few 'little' problems, and depressive, self harming, thoughts were the biggest ones. Thoughts that were usually chased away. In fact his mom had never allowed a single one to take root. Jack had a few episodes, but never anything bad.
But the person that made sure those thoughts never took root was now gone. She had been gone for almost two years now.
After that? The world didn't come crashing down on him, no. It just broke. Piece. By. Piece.
"You know what?" Ulises chuckled. Jack didn't know if he was aware of the effect of his continued bullying, but it didn't matter. Ulises just said the same thing that he had been telling Jack since his mom killed herself. "You should just stop stalling and go meet your 'mommy'."
Ulises was finally barred for life from that supermarket. It just took three different incidents.
One too many. And partly it was done because Jack had glared at him in a way that the private security woman that got to Ulises left with a cold shiver running down her back.
And you know what? Ulises was one of the lesser evils. He was a fucking asshole, yeah, but he was much milder than most. The man was better with his fists than with his words. All he wanted since the day he betrayed Jack, or so Ulises said, was another fight. That never happened, so Ulises tried to screw Jack over by other means that did NOT involve Jack's mom, otherwise Ulises could likely end up worse than just hurt.
This had been the only time Ulises mentioned Sarah. It was either a low blow or he was desperate to get into a fistfight for some reason.
But two years of being humiliated for his family life. Of being harassed because of what his mom did. Of being told time and time again that no one would be there for him ever again, not in person anyway, because no one liked crazies like him, eroded at the permanently flimsy walls that he had erected.
Jack never had a sturdy self esteem, and his mental health was even worse. His mom helped him plenty, but now she was gone. That it took him almost two years to snap was a miracle.
Even after Ulises' latest barb did him in, Jack didn't just do something stupid. No. It was worse than that. A spurt of the moment could've been stopped. He instead took his time.
Jack finished his purchase that morning. He did his usual daily life without much of a fuss, though he was even more introverted than usual, not even contacting his peers online. Hell, he didn't even have the will to give a call to his two best buds (and only friends) in town. There were no hellos to the few that still talked to him within the community. No answers to sneers, no glances, no nothing.
Lunch came and went, though Jack didn't even touch the junk food he had gotten. Dinner was the same. He ate well, in fact he ate 100% healthy for once in these past two years. He exercised, finished the last touches on the latest project with an online friend, then he did all the chores that had been piling up for a month if not longer.
All to kill time and wait until nightfall.
Now, Jack would freely admit that Ulises' barbs were middling at best, perhaps bothersome at worst. But it wasn't HIS shit that got Jack's dam to break. They were just another small hole that Jack had no way of filling back up before the water burst forth in brutal glory.
Depression had many forms. Sadness was just one of them. But for someone whose mind was… frail? Again, it could take many forms. For Jack it had always been self harming thoughts that he had, luckily, never partook on those dark ideas that came to his mind. Self doubt, self hatred and worse things are always floating around somewhere for no reason whatsoever. It had only been his mom that had made that tidal wave turn into stillwater and calm down his worries.
Jack had tried to return the favor. He had been there for Sarah every day he could and in every way he was able to. He went so far as to, for once in his life, completely and wholly disagree with his mom on something: That the man she chose was the wrong kind of guy.
She didn't listen. Jack understood. Love could be blinding, and stupid. And hey, perhaps Jack was wrong.
Only he wasn't… and his mom, just as unstable as he was in certain situations, lost it.
…
He would've done the same, most likely. Or maybe not? Jack had never been in love with anyone. Sexual interest? Sure. Sex? Also yeah, he was not super experienced, but he had his flings. Hell, 'technically' one was an adult at 21 here, but almost no one gave a shit during their late teen years. But love? Nah. He was probably very particular. That, and most of the women he had been with liked his physique, not his personality.
Or… he had made sure not to love anyone. He couldn't see himself trusting another person like that, not without spending a lot of time with them and knowing it is not his body that was the main attraction. It required a great deal to get him to be comfortable around someone.
His mom's fate only served to feed that natural distrust, or fear, of getting close to someone.
Then came the reaction of everyone else.
At first it had been very harsh. The day after her death Jack had been wrenched from what had been a great stream to unceremoniously be told the truth. A funeral had been prepared in short order after that and a month went by in a blink. A month with no pause, with barely any control, with him getting ownership of his aunt's, his mom's, house and a lot of shit and troubles that came from the people around him.
But if the first days had been hectic and without feeling beyond his mind trying to conjure up a solution, trying to wake up and tell his mom about this horrible nightmare, it just got worse. Not only did he not wake up from this, but everyone thought it okay to get on his case too.
Many considered it perfectly fine to throw all their venom at Jack. Insults and disparaging comments hurled at Sarah Mayberry, the crazy bitch that almost killed a poor, innocent woman. The words used were as varied and colorful as there are flowers up there. They only got worse when Martha's whole family died. Things had been calming down, but that event brought a new shitstorm to his doorstep. And, if Jack thought about it with a cold, calculating mind, they weren't exactly wrong to think Jack was partly at fault, or probably not that dissimilar from his mom.
One out of every ten people Jack had known, that his mom had known, still talked to him in a friendly way. Three, perhaps four in some cases, were neutral, usually those that meet him regularly only for working reasons, like back at the supermarket. Everyone else?
Insults, jabs, sneers. Of those in Jack's family that had lived in this city, the three women they all knew of, not a single one had left in good standing.
His grandmother owed money to a lot of people, had begged, borrowed and stolen from enough individuals that it was a surprise she was still alive today. Though many probably considered her current status as a worse message than just getting rid of her. And let me tell you: Jack's grandmother had done a lot of harm to a lot of people while drugged up. It wasn't just those she stole from or betrayed, a lot of people in the city were very, very happy that she was wasting away without recourse, because she hurt far too many for anyone to care about her now.
His biological mother? Not only was she a massive whore, and not the good kind. A prostitute was a profession, much as many disliked the idea. But someone that actively tried to get people drugged or boozed up to sleep with them and then get out of dodge? She had seduced and roofied enough men to have an active warrant for her ass. Not even the most white knights of the white knights could defend that witch. Then you had all the benders she had gone on and the damage she had created when she used drugs not to screw others (literally and non literally), but to 'have a good time'.
Not to say anything about the myriad of health and mental problems she had saddled Jack with. Her body was steelclad, but taking everything she could while pregnant was why Jack ended up messed up. Not a single person missed Jack's mother. No one would've minded it if she died.
And… Well. Jack's mom, Sarah, had been the redeeming factor. Then she went and did this.
Yeah…
No one, absolutely no one, expected Jack to be any better now, after Sarah's actions. And most people let their animosity be known.
So, bit by bit, chip by chip, the thin defenses he had mustered broke down.
Which is why, once night fell on the suburban area Jack lived in, when no one roamed the streets, he went for that old thing he bought a long time ago and that he hid from his mom. A simple, stupid rope. A memento of his weakness and fear made manifest that he found impossible to throw out.
The end of a problem, unless the tree in the backyard decided to flake on him.
*** Present ***
As luck would have had it, the branch did hold Jack's weight. So did the old rope.
But in a twist of fate, so did his neck.
Of all the times his supposed poor health and condition should have caught up to him, this was the time it chose to show the mightiest of resistances. Jack had caught colds and whatever else with ease when he should've been perfectly fine, even twisted muscles and harmed bones before. His body *looked* mighty fine, but it was just a surface kind of thing that needed to be maintained with fine precision for everything to be okay.
And today it decided to hold together like the mightiest of armor against a devastating blow. Jumping from a fucking tree branch in hopes for there to be a quick SNAP and have it done with had been, of course, too much to hope for.
At least there was no oxygen left. Jack could feel himself slowly going to sleep. If only the pain could finally recede then he'd know that this was a done de-.
What was that?
Hearing had almost gone out, vision was darkening and all that, but Jack was sure he had seen a flash of bright light and heard some kind of booming. Or was that an auditory and visual hallucination now that he was almost done at last?
"I got you!"
Or perhaps not.
Had he been any more conscious Jack was pretty damn sure he would've felt his chest caving in on impact. What had hit him? Good question, but Jack was pretty sure it was a person. A woman, a young one, or perhaps petite, by the sound of her voice. Though the force she applied when she crashed against him, somehow cutting the rope holding him while doing so, had been anything but small.
In fact, while Jack didn't know about it, the strength had been beyond what his body could take. Not enough to kill him, no. Not even close! The one saving him had made sure to cushion as much of the force as she could, again, without his knowledge, by magic at that.
Jack didn't really even feel it. In truth, he hadn't been feeling pain for most of the ordeal. His brain just told him what he should be feeling, because a lot of nerve endings had been snapped after what he had done. Not enough to make it impossible to trash around, but enough to make it impossible for Jack to ever move anything below the neck. Phantom pain was a thing, and his body convulsing erratically was just a chance happening, just like his survival.
But again, he didn't know. Just like he didn't know that his ribcage as a whole had been shattered and that a lot of bone shards had done much internal damage. Emily, however, had noticed, and the moment the pair touched the ground the young Seraph had her magic working on Jack.
Because, without intervention, he WAS going to die. A mix of trauma, oxygen deprivation, new accidental wounds and his mind just wanting to shut down were enough to bring him to the brink.
Jack knew not of how many things were going through Emily's head. Was this a breach of her agreement with her sister? Technically. TECHNICALLY. Jack had died. For a split second. Oxygen, pain, wounds, the body trying to fix itself while failing at it and Emily herself. All of it had made sure he died.
For a moment.
But she hadn't been yanked from here, instead she remained in place. One hand on Jack, the other over her heart as she felt hyperventilation coming in, hard.
Jack, again, knew none of this. In fact his mind was very out of it. In fact, his brain, at least until he recovered, had very little to say when he, mere seconds after a light shone through his body, 'came back to his senses'. Heck, it was barely ten seconds' worth of life after he had been dying for around half a minute, only to 'die' soon after and forcefully revived. Magic or not, a miracle even, that had to do some damage.
"You are as beautiful as an angel."
And while Jack was anything but suave, considering those he had been with had usually initiated everything, he was a very straightforward man most of the time. I mean, what Jack saw was, without a shadow of a doubt, beautiful. Most would call Emily damn cute, but both were apt descriptions.
And Emily's golden blush did not diminish that belief.
"I… Thank you." Perhaps he would've changed his tune if he knew the blush came from shame? Emily was clearly pained about her 'rescue', Jack would've noticed if he had a clearer mind. Alas Emily chose the safest route and didn't bring it out. Instead he made something clear. "And I… I am. An angel, I mean."
This made Jack blink. Had he died then? "Am I… in Heaven?"
Emily grimaced. Even then it was more of a weak smile. She didn't have the heart to offer a negative emotion to the man, not a single one. Jack would've understood if he could see what Emily saw.
The dead's souls were obvious. The living? Not so much. Jack's momentary death allowed Emily a peek, nothing else.
But Emily saw Jack's orange soul; creative, innovative, full of imagination. A hope for the future… almost snuffed out by cruelty, depression and faults that should never have existed to begin with. The young man was, much like his aunt, no saint. Jack would gladly make this clear if needed. He would've told Emily that he highly doubted he deserved to go to Heaven, thus his confusion. But Emily saw more than the surface would allow.
Still, the answer was simple. "No, you did not… pass on." After all, that wasn't a lie. He 'died', just… not quite. "You are still alive, resting on your backyard's grass. And yes, I am real. This is not, you know, an hallucination"
Jack didn't say anything. He thought he was hallucinating if nothing else, and the girl saying he wasn't didn't exactly help. It sure as hell felt like it considering right now his body felt better than it had in almost a year. But, as he had been healed from all damage, the one done by his own hand and the one forced on him in an accident during his rescue, Jack moved. He just wanted to feel, to see if this was really happening.
The moment his hand landed he had to admit he wasn't just dreaming this in some way.
He caressed Emily's cheek. He tried to just touch, but, well, he got what he got. Perhaps this was his messed up brain too?
At least it wasn't more awkward than that. Considering his motor skills were still recovering, and that the magic in him was likely messing with his mind a little bit, this could be considered a win.
As a fun fact? Emily was very, very soft. Pleasant to the touch even. Or perhaps that was something else telling Jack what he should feel? Either way, the young man focused on the facts: There was a winged woman in front of him, and she had saved his ass.
Problem: He had wanted to die.
"You… saved me."
It hit both of them hard. Emily bit her lower lip when she noticed it wasn't a question, or even an affirmation. It was an accusation.
Jack himself was no much better when his own brain caught up and he frowned at the angel in front of him. The first thing he did was take that hand away, something Emily emulated the moment he saw his expression change.
Then he remarked the obvious, with a good dose of vitriol in his voice.
"I… I wanted to die."
For a moment he tried to move, to at least get his upper body away from the grass, to sit upright and push her away. He couldn't. His body did not register that he could because he should've been broken. The miracle of healing was just that, a miracle. It had done literal wonders in moments. But Jack's mind and body was unable to process it yet.
When people think that a potion, a spell or something else is just instantaneous they need to realize something: Magic, alchemy and literal reality bending are all fun and nice in fiction, but the physical world, and those unused to magic, make things conform to what should be possible within. Jack's body had been broken very quickly and his mind was still trying to understand that such damage had been just undone. It is like going at full speed on a treadmill for your first time ever, thinking all will be fine.
The moment you stop you'll be hit with nausea or dizziness, loss of balance and, likely, faceplant.
This didn't stop Jack from being angry. It just stopped him from being forceful and doing something he would regret later. "Why didn't an angel come help my mom?" God, Jack knew that, anger or not, he sounded like a child. "Why are you here now?!"
"Because I need you."
Okay, Jack was sure that didn't come out as intended. Emily, likewise, couldn't help but blush at how stupid she felt.
This was all going *exactly* as the young Seraphim had envisioned.
At least no one else had crossed the portal yet. Jack couldn't see it from this position, so he had no idea, he only saw a spark of relief on Emily's face as she took the chance to explain.
"There is… Look, I will be honest. I… I don't want to admit it, but Heaven is not all… I thought it was." Jack could see the girl frowning, almost tearing up. It was likely something very important and personal, but he opted not to say a thing. Right now he just wanted an explanation and a REASON for him to still be alive. "There is something heinous that Heaven is doing, something I learned about not long ago. I want your help to make things right in that regard. More than that: I wish to ask you for your help showing the world that the afterlife DOES exist."
And he wasn't hallucinating? Jack could swear this would be something found in some bad C, D, or even Z tiered movie. Perhaps some bad fanfiction, or, perhaps the worst and lowest of the low; some modern 'remaster' or 'new take' on an old IP.
The shudders. All those IPs destroyed because some fucking idiot thought 'a modern take' was needed.
Jack's mind tried, and failed, to make light of the topic. Anger quickly resurfaced as his face morphed into a scowl. "And why would I-?"
Before he could yell Emily silenced him with a finger.
"I know you are angry. Saying sorry would help you, and no matter how much I mean it, it would not undo what happened." Emily spoke as softly as she could. Rude and angry, grieving and sad, it didn't matter what combination Jack was going through because Emily clearly understood it was not an easy time for him. "I cannot promise to make the world fair, even if I achieve all I hope for, either. What I want is to stop as many people from going to Hell. I wish to stop a cruel act that takes place every year. I wish for mortals to see that there *IS* something after life here ends. That way perhaps, just perhaps, less people will do things that would end in tragedy." The young Seraphim offered Jack a hand. Perhaps if he allowed her to help, and to push more magic into him, he'd be able to move. But only if he wanted. "I do not know if that will make everything better. But I am trying to do good. Just… just good. I know I cannot make it perfect."
Jack looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he thought it over.
It didn't take long, really. There wasn't much to think about in this case. The situation itself was insane, and Jack thought himself very much the same. But in the end? He was not selfish and angry enough to say no to someone that looked ready to cry if he said no.
He was an idiot and a softie most of the time. Another reason why he avoided a lot of personal interactions. His mom always told him 'You are so good you are stupid' as a joke, but then again…
Jack sighed and took Emily's hand. The seriousness and borderline need to cry at the young man's reticence were all washed away in the wake of a smile so big and bright Jack couldn't help but break his own frown, if just a little. Then that face turned into one of surprise as he felt light all of sudden, whether because Emily filled him with magic again (though this he did not exactly 'feel' as it were) or because a petite woman like her lifted him as if he was a pebble, he didn't know.
"Woah girl." Though the act did make him smile a nervous smirk as he looked at the young Seraphim. "A lot stronger than you look."
Emily blushed again. Praise was usually offered when she helped someone, or when she made someone smile. It was… different? Yes, different. Good even. It felt good to be given a compliment for something that was not her purpose.
"Well, I am a Seraphim." Emily's blush diminished as her smile turned more alongside what Jack would consider 'normal'. "We are supposed to be really good at everything? I wouldn't know, really. All I do, what I was 'made' to do, is try to make people happy."
Jack's previous face of surprise and nervous smile diminished a bit. Happy… He hadn't been really happy for two years now. His default nature wasn't exactly joyous anyway. He wanted to complain again. To be a petty shit. Instead he just chose to nod.
He wasn't about to be a dick to… "Wait… you haven't told me your name?"
Emily made a little 'o' face, as if in surprise. It clearly had escaped her mind. "I forgot!" Her smile soon returned however. "My name is Emily. And I know you are Jack Mayberry."
Jack arched an eyebrow as he threw the woman a side glance. "You have me at a disadvantage here. A lot of spying on a candidate for… whatever this is?"
"More like… dumb luck." Emily blushed once more, this time a pure mix of embarrassment and shame. "Because you are… not the one to help me? Not exactly anyway."
Jack blinked. "But you said-?"
The poor Seraphim groaned. "I know, I know. And it is not a lie. Although I need your help in a particular way. I don't think you'll be the one to spread the word about this after all. However, for me to be here at all I needed someone special to you to accept my request, to accept helping me."
Emily finally noticed she had yet to let go of Jack, not that Jack had noticed, lost as he was in trying to understand this… whatever this situation really was. He did notice the moment Emily let go, though, but she quickly pushed attention away from her and onto someone else that had just now attempted to cross that bright, golden rimmed portal in the middle of Jack's backyard. Fear was clear in her eyes, though Jack had yet to notice the reticence, or that the brightness WAS a portal at all.
"And while I know it is not in any way what you'd want. That this is little more than bribery for the both of you. I hope that you can not only help each other, but everyone else." Emily ignored Jack's confusion, if only to hold a hand to another. It was only when Jack finally turned that he saw who it was. "I also hope that, in a way, this can be taken as a new chance, for the both of you."
The change could literally be felt the moment hooves touched grass on the living world.
More than felt, heard.
"Mom?"
"Jack!"
The collision would've been enough to shatter Jack's ribs once more, had he not been touched by Seraphim magic at this point.
Jack's body was still uneven in footing and feeling, but the young man, upon seeing the woman that had been his mother in lieu of the one that birthed him, could not care any less. Strength was found. Balance forced into place. Will moved him. He could not see the Sinner Sarah Mayberry had turned into, all he could see was his mother, and Jack could not give any less of a fuck about anything else as he ran to embrace her as if she was going to vanish once more from his life.
Sarah was way worse off than Jack in the feelings department, but her body held strong. As a Sinner the woman was much stronger now than in life, and despite her petite appearance, Sarah had been absurdly strong. Much like Jack, who went from nothing to a physically imposing man, Sarah had a lot of power packed within, but had the luck to inherit a beautiful form from his mother's line.
Small miracles, and one of the few things to be thankful for when it came to the abusive woman.
Now Sarah put that power to the test, even if she didn't want to. She lunged at her little Jack. She held him for dear life. Had she any clear thoughts in her head, not just the joy of being reunited with her little one, the tears she was shedding would be there because, at any other moment, she would've brutalized Jack's back and ribs with the hug. As it were both of them could've been indebted to Emily, had the little Seraphim been inclined to hold it over their heads. But as far as Emily was concerned? The display was all she hoped and then some.
Honestly, it was perhaps a bit more than she had expected.
…
Okay, a lot more.
There was a lot more sobbing and crying, and tears and… And were they yelling at each other now? Emily grimaced as Jack accused Sarah of smoking while Sarah poked a little bit of pudge on Jack's belly area, telling him that his health could deteriorate like a sand castle when the wave came.
"Ah, this does bring back memories." A voice cut through the scene with only the faintest bit of static. "And the air! Oh the air. You barely notice it after a hundred years, but Earth's air, even this close to a city, is so fresh."
Jack turned from his mom to see a group pull out from the portal.
Alastor had been quick to move from Hell to Earth the moment he saw Jack and Sarah hug it out. Seeing as there was no pull to bring Mrs. Mayberry back to her eternal torment, the Radio Demon took no time accepting his own leave from Hell, brief as it would likely be for a first outing.
Behind Alastor came Blitzo, the assassin doing his most professional stint and keeping a hand close to his particular enchanted flintlock pistol. In modern times a lot of people would laugh at him for such a weapon but… well, a couple dozen lead balls fired in quick succession tended to make you shut up darn quickly.
Charlie had been a close third, if only because her father had insisted. The Princess of Hell was watching a short interaction between Miss Principal and his father, still near the edge of the portal, before Lucifer came over to this side of creation.
"It feels weird to be back here." Lucifer spoke with a bit of a huff. "Every time I tried to visit and see something other than the crap back home, Heaven would bitch me back to my castle." The Devil sneered upwards. "Well, fuck you, Dad! Can't do shit now!"
Catharsis aside, because that one was obvious, Jack did not understand anything here.
Nor would he for a moment longer as Miss Principal didn't cross, but she did give a call. "Mayberry."
Sarah faced her boss, ramrod straight, instead of explaining things to Jack. "Yes?"
"You are covered for however long this takes." The eagle Sinner spoke firmly, and she literally looked down on Sarah as she did so. Jack was about to say something but he thought better the moment Miss Principal made something very clear. "Remember what you promised. And I do mean it: Remember. You are trying to do something for you first and foremost. So do keep in mind: I may not own your soul, I am not that kind of Overlord. But if you throw the towel I will make sure Hell will be the least of your worries."
Jack could see his mom tense up at his side. "I… Thanks, Paetra."
Miss Principal scowled. "Don't thank me. You have a chance to atone and a crime far lighter than mine. Do NOT fuck this up, Sarah. If you do, I will bash your skull against my desk until either you, or enchanted hellish steel, break. And this is a fair warning, Sarah: If you don't outlive that desk, I'll have a permanent means of getting rid of you long before we get another visit from Heaven." There was a very tense silence for a moment. "If you cannot do this because Heaven is full of assholes, then all is fine and dandy. You tried your best and I will respect that, everyone here will. But if you screw everyone over? I'll be waiting. Do not play with the children's future, Sarah. That is all I ask."
That done, Miss Principal offered a nod to Lucifer before walking away. The sound of desks and other furniture being moved, dozens of them at once, could be heard. While Jack didn't know what the fuck was happening it was clear to everyone else that the woman on the other side of the portal, as it was being closed, decided to just rearrange the classroom and hope for the best.
And hope doesn't come easy in Hell.
"I am so fucked." Sarah groaned into her hands as Jack did what came natural and rubbed her back. It only took the woman a few seconds before she took a deep breath and then let go, trying her best to appear calm. "Okay, okay. All is fine."
"It is not, though." Jack stopped the rubbing and instead held his mom closer. "You are damn tense." He really wanted to lift her up and hug her against his chest, then drag her home and keep her in her room until it all felt like it did two years ago. "And you, uh, have company. Far more than…" Jack paused. "I don't know how to follow that. I doubt anyone ever expected anything like this." The young man looked abased at the group. "Sorry if this is weird?"
Alastor let out a tittering laugh. "Don't mind us, young man. There are few acts of sentimentalism I could tolerate, that is true. But this? I wholeheartedly understand."
Charlie couldn't help it. She looked at Alastor as if he had grown not only a second head, but a whole new body double that was now talking in his stead.
"You do?" Charlie didn't even allow her mind to think before she asked. "Sorry if I don't see that happening, Alastor."
"Understandable, my dear. Completely understandable." Alastor took a moment to chuckle and clean his monocle. "But do remember; if there is one person I have ever truly spoken about with fondness back from when I was alive, it would be my mother."
That was a partial lie of course. There was Mimzy too, but the Sinner knew her friend from way back when was still peeved at his current… 'focus'. More like an enforced task despite the enjoyment he got out of it. This, of course, none here knew much, or anything of. Emily knew nothing, Charlie knew the barest details of Mimzy, Blitzo didn't give two shits and Lucifer wouldn't have cared to know the Radio Demon better unless his daughter asked with the biggest puppy eyes ever imagined.
As such Jack was in the complete fucking dark, and Sarah was no much better.
Though the one to say something was Blitzo of all people.
"Hey, I can understand Bambi here." The Imp completely ignored the static and murderous gaze coming from the Overlord. "If there is one person I truly ever wanted to see again, it would be my mum. So be glad, human." Blitzo sent a leer towards Jack. "You got luckier than most here."
"Well, I would've preferred this to be a more private thing." Sarah grumbled, though she wouldn't complain for real.
That Jack was fine, somehow, and that she was with him again made a lot of her almost permanent anger from her stay in Hell go away. In fact Jack noticed that, while his mom didn't have her usual smile and happy go lucky demeanor, being very aggressive during their little verbal fight, she had quickly mellowed out.
Also, the smell. Jack had grown to dislike the smell of tobacco in any form, and Sarah had been the one to drive him to that dislike. To have his mom smelling like something that she herself had detested to death during his life on Earth?
Well, let's say that was as strange to him as his new perception. Magic had finally caught up to Jack, and while he hadn't noticed it at first, as if it was supposed to be always like that, seeing everything, everyone, in such pastel colors, as if it was a cartoon, was making him stand on edge.
So he opted to kill two birds with one nuke and be blunt.
"We can have a moment for ourselves later, mom." Jack placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder, making the Sinner look at her nephew and adopted son with a quirked eyebrow. Jack had to admit that, while he could still see his mom with ease, the changes were something else. "First I'd like to know what the hell is going on. And you need to wash away the smell of smokes, for fuck's sake."
Sarah frowned. "Language, Jack." Then harrumphed. "And I am your mom. I should be telling *you* what to do, young man."
Jack deadpanned her way. "Do as I say, not as I do?"
"Damn right." Sarah turned her face again to give Jack a toothy smile.
It died ever so slightly as she, somehow (As there was no visible nose on her face), took a whiff of fresh air without any further distraction. A small gag hit her soon after and she had to contain her churning stomach.
"Oh my fucking Satan!" Sarah almost did a lot more than just dry heaving for a second. Jack could understand. He had been smelling her for a hot minute now. "Is that how I smell!? How?! Why!?"
Lucifer, until now silent, offered a meek smile. "Hell warps a lot of things, my dear. Your sense of smell no least of all. At least it does so during your stay as a Sinner. Originally that wasn't the case, but then again, back then human souls stayed human, not turned into Sinners like you. Hellborn don't have that problem, probably another reason why most don't exactly like to be close to earthborn souls."
"Well, thanks for the information, I guess." Sarah made a face, clearly disgusted. "That sense could go fuck itself right now though. Ugh!"
Jack fully understood. The smell smokers gave off wasn't always strong, unless it was a chainsmoker that is. Or someone with no hygiene whatsoever. His mom? She smelled worse. Far worse. It was as if…
Cigarettes from Hell. He had to think about it that way and accept the obvious reasoning that said 'That should answer all your questions'.
Just nod and move along, Jack.
"Let's get into the house, mom." Jack urged. By now his desire to know was strong, but the worry about someone seeing this whole scene had been a growing one in his mind. More so with Sarah seemingly having no indoor voice at the moment. "I want to learn what this is all about and WHY I see everything like this is a damn cartoon show."