Happy SciFi Friday!
...which I apparently celebrate with Numb3rs deathfic. But it's just a tiny little fic! It's inspired by, in the sense of being a v. direct pastiche of, Douglas Coupland's "The Dead Speak," which I read at an impressionable age. This popped into my head a few weeks back, and found its way into words today.

Don/Charlie. Deathfic. Apocafic. Gruesome (although let me say, less so than Coupland's version. Scroll down for full text of "The Dead Speak.") Do I have to warn for incest when it ends this quickly and badly?


The Dead Speak: Charlie Eppes

I was raking leaves in the front yard when it happened. I heard tires squeal in the street, and by the time I looked up Don was jumping out of the car, leaving it parked halfway on the grass. I dropped the rake and stood there, frozen, and he grabbed me by the arms and kissed me. Kissed me, right there in front of God and everyone, and I thought either it was one of those dreams you have where you're naked at the grocery store, or else it was the end of the world. I kissed him back and then I pulled away far enough to ask him which it was, but his hands tightened on my arms and he looked over my shoulder and said, "Just look at me, Charlie. Don't look back."

I looked back. The flash was the last thing I saw; my vision stayed white and I felt something wet across my face--it may have been my eyes, I don't know. I felt Don's arms lock around me and heard a roaring sound, and then the blast hit and we were flying backwards. I felt his grip start to loosen and I tried to reach back and hold on, but my arms didn't work. Whatever we hit, he hit it first, and I hit him, our bodies combining right through whatever remained of our clothes and our skin, and then I was dead.



Sweet dreams, everyone!