There by planet p

Disclaimer I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.

For Abriel, death was a reprieve from the hospital bed, from the coma, from life. For her, life had sucked. Sometimes, it had sucked less, but it had always sucked in one way or another, and then it had sucked her down. All the way down into a coma.

She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. Maybe, she couldn't even think. She was trapped.

And then there was the doctor, and he hurt her when she couldn't stop him – because she was asleep! She was getting better, though. He got scared. That was when he decided she had to die. On the outside, he pretended he was pleased, but on the inside, he was mad as Hell.

He'd have to find someone else to fulfil the role she'd previously filled. She'd gotten too dangerous. Maybe, when she got better enough, when she woke up, maybe she'd figure it out. And tell.

But the dead did not tell.

She lay on that cold metal slab in that cold empty room for so long. Maybe she should have been relieved when it was finally over, relieved that she was about to be released, but she'd hidden away, hidden away from it all, all of the pain and horror and indignity, and when it finally ended, she didn't even know, or want to know.

Who would have cared about her, anyway? She'd been mentally ill her whole life, or as far back as she'd been able to remember. Cops shot the mentally ill, nobody cared for them. They were a nuisance, a burden, dangerous to the rest of society.

It had been a shooting that had put her in the coma in the first place, but, after that, the world had seemed to have forgotten about her. To the world, Abriel stopped existing.

And then she died.

Then, later, it was then that Ruby came.

Abriel was buried so deep down inside that not even Ruby knew she was there, at first. But even then, when Ruby realised that the original owner of the body was somehow still inside it, stuck maybe, Abriel never bothered her. Sometimes, she warmed to see, know, to do the things that Ruby did. Sometimes, they made her whole life before seem like… just like getting ready, for this, when she'd finally be powerful enough to seek revenge.

So she stayed, in the deep, dark recesses, and sometimes she smiled.

And, in the end, when those Winchester brothers finally killed Ruby, Abriel knew that she would have to go, too; that she, as much as Ruby, was being evicted – from her own body! – and she was… sad, finally.

She'd seen, felt, Ruby change… or maybe, become more like the Ruby that had always been there, hidden inside, frightened, waiting for someone to come along who would trust her, and care for her, and love her. Someone with whom it was okay to be just Ruby, someone with whom it was okay to be the person she'd never been allowed to be in life. Abriel related to that. She was on Ruby's side all the way. She didn't think Ruby knew this, though. It was better that way, she thought. It was private, and Abriel didn't think she was ready to share it with anyone.

She'd never believed in anyone so much before, not even herself. Maybe, if she had, she'd have been able to… get better, or something. Maybe.

It was only when Abriel realised what was in store for Ruby that she reached out, screaming and kicking. But she was so deep down in the dark, cold place.

She knew Ruby had lied to Sam. She knew! But she didn't know why. She was mad at Ruby for it, but she didn't see the end, not until that final moment, and then they saw it together.

It was then that Abriel rebelled. This was not happening again! Not yet! But then the knife went in, right in.

And all three lives were extinguished in less time than it took to draw a breath, a sharp gasp, intake of breath, two heart beats, beating almost in unison, so that when the first one, the stronger one, died, the second one beat once more, suddenly, inexplicably alone, and faded away.

The time was stolen away, and nobody cried.

Maybe, if Abriel hadn't tried to warn Ruby, maybe then she'd have been able to get away, maybe then the baby would have lived. Because, in a way, it was Abriel's baby, too.

And, by trying to save them, she'd killed all three of them.

There was a baby that would never cry, a mother that would never be, a soul that would never be free. There, where they lay, on the floor; there, in the church, dead.

There, where there was no redemption.

No hope.

No light.

Lame, but thanks for reading.