the betrayal/redemption meme

[earthking]

BETRAYAL MEME

You have done something unspeakable to the people closest to you. How did this come to be, and how will you make amends?


Instructions

Post with your character with their name, series, and whether you're the betrayer, the betrayed, or simply leave it blank! Then, either make up your own scenario to your liking, or use our prompts (RNG totally optional) and go wild!

(Example: for organization's sake, denote b3+2 where you killed someone and are trying to hide it or r5+3 for a situation where you side-hopped and now want nothing more than to make things right, so that people know at a glance whether you're betraying or being redeemed and what you did.)

betrayal; you've turned your back on everything you once stood for

1) you're innocent. it's not your fault, but they can never know. maybe you're protecting someone. maybe you're being blackmailed. whatever the case, it's your dark secret.
2) you're hiding. you've done something terrible, but no one knows it yet. how far will you go to bury what you've done for good?
3) you're uncertain. everything is in place now, but nothing's been set into motion yet. maybe it's not too late to turn back. or is it?
4) you're slipping. you thought you could change. maybe for a while you even managed to. but now you find yourself falling back to your old ways, and everyone around you is at risk.
5) you're reacting. they betrayed you first. you're not in the wrong. they deserve this. they brought this upon themselves. you're not really betraying anyone if they pushed first.

redemption; you've done something that can never be forgiven

1) you're trapped. they caught you red-handed, or maybe you turned yourself in. now those you betrayed are free to face you one by one and have their revenge.
2) you're false. this whole betrayal thing isn't working out quite the way you'd hoped. maybe if you play your cards just right, you'll be able to get your old life back.
3) you're selfless. whatever forced your hand to begin with doesn't matter anymore. you'll destroy yourself and play the role of a villain to the very end if that is what it takes to make things right.
4) you're lost. what you did was wrong, and you know that now. you can never be sorry enough, and you've lost your way. all you want to do is find home. won't anyone out there show you the way?
5) you're tortured. you have to make amends for what you've done. you have to. the thought consumes you, possesses you. you have to find them, help them. but after what you've done, will they even want to see you again?

what you've done;

1) you sold them out
2) you killed
3) you joined the other side
4) you stole
5) you lied
6) you simply are. you were never 'good' to begin with.

Comments

[demojoed]

"You're going to put me in the goddamn hospital anyway!" The statement is much more human than it would have been before, he doesn't stumble over the minor blasphemy of saying his father's name in vain. It comes out determined and desperate, but he does stumble back, and lets go of Dean's wrists.

It's true. If Dean keeps it up, he hasn't really got any way to stop it. He can't fight. Most of his fighting skill came from the Host, with the combination of angelic strength and the ability to disappear and reappear, he'd been a worthy adversary. As a human, he's not particularly strong, not particularly agile. Not particularly sturdy. His lip is already swelling and bleeding, and a lovely bruise is spreading across his jaw. The same is likely true for that gut-punch from a second ago.

"You will kill me."

Then again... he probably should have taken that possibility into consideration. His eyes flick to the ground and back up again as the thought rolls through him- Dean may actually kill him, and be completely justified in his actions. He's not... afraid of death, he just didn't think he could be filled with any more sadness than he already is. Apparently he was wrong.

"If you chose that course of action, I only request that you do it with a gun rather than your fists."

[heavenwaitsforyou]

"Think I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, Cas?"

Apparently, this is funny. Funny in a desperate, pathetic, half-laugh kind of way. Funny the way things are when you literally want to beat the man who used to be maybe your closest unrelated friend until he's unconscious. Funny the way things are when you are completely and totally out of steam and pride is keeping you on your feet.

A raw laugh escapes Dean's lips, a little twisted.

"Fuck no, what a fucking copout. You're gonna be fucking human. Gonna get mugged and be homeless and sleep in the goddamn rain. Feel worse than dirt. Get hangovers. Feel shame and guilt and disgust. Be hungry. Get constipated." He manages another bitter laugh. "That's a thousand times worse than going straight to heaven. Real classic trick, though. I almost fell for it."

[demojoed]

"I don't want- damn it, Dean, I don't want to die," He snapped. This is just... the sadness is giving way to anger and annoyance. The same he always gets during extended periods of exposure to Dean. Dean is always so... fucking annoying and impossible. He hadn't realized just exactly how grating until now. "I just assumed it was your next logical course of action for retribution- very likely, considering you continue to hit me."

He brought a hand up, flexed his jaw. Not dislocated, just really really painful.

Dean was right, though, he probably was going to get mugged, be homeless, and sleep in the rain. He did feel shame and guilt and disgust, and he was starving. No money for food. No way to get a job without a name, a birth certificate, or any quantifiable human skill or trade.

He'd be more angry about the blow, but the initial anger is fading away again, and he just wants to leave. Just let him leave, Dean. He held up a hand, a gesture of submission, and took a step back. Then another, then another. If Dean was going to punch him again, he'd at least like to be expecting it. "I do not blame you- for hitting me or hating me. There is nothing I can do about the second, I'd at least like to avoid the first."

Because he feels a need to justify why he isn't just taking the beating. His fingertips skim the wall as he backs away, nearing the corner leading to the stairs.

[heavenwaitsforyou]

"Get out of my fucking sight," he spits, because the adrenaline is turning into more emptiness, and the anger is sucking out of him like a vacuum, and he's a little worried that he won't be able to stand without those two things. And, yeah, he really does not want to collapse in front of Cas. So Cas running works out fine. Running to nothing, just like Dean wants him to. He'll sleep in the cold outside, miserable, and Dean should feel good about this but everything just feels like tiny pins stabbed into his chest.

The motel room door is only a few steps behind him but it's suddenly a million miles away. Sam is going to ask questions - what happened to you, where's the beer, back so soon - and Dean has to prepare himself for that, too. He can't have one fucking ex-friend. No, he has to have the nosy brother too, to make it all goddamn worse. "Don't come back here," he hisses, finally finding the doorknob, thank fucking god.

[demojoed]

With physical pain, at least, after a certain point, the pain becomes so great, there is only a feeling of total body numbness. The body releases a chemical to make you giddy, and you go into shock, and for a while, everything is floaty and okay. It is not the same with emotional pain, he's quick to find out. The spitting, hissing, biting words just cut again and again, slicing through an intangible part of him. He's not sure if it's his mind or his heart or his soul, maybe all three, but wherever the injuries are being inflicted, they hurt so much.

He doesn't intend to come back. He doesn't intend to ever come back. He doesn't intend to ever see Dean again, for the rest of his human life. As soon as he's granted permission, he turns to leave, skirting around the corner and taking the steps at almost a jog, fleeing, haste, trying to get away. No. He's never coming back here. Never again.

His feet take him down the sidewalk, down the street, down the block, before he realizes he doesn't actually have anywhere to go. His legs go soft beneath him, and he sinks down, and numbly realizes he's sitting on a bench.

He... he hadn't expected... he wasn't prepared for... he didn't know being a human gave you the capacity to feel... to feel this.

Something is leaking from his eyes. Something is streaking down his face. He's seen Dean cry, but he never considered the possibility that he could cry. His eyes are wide with the realization, and he doesn't... exactly know what to do about it. Lips part in surprise, and just... stay that way, and he stares, lost, out into the empty street.

It starts to rain.

It doesn't matter.

What now? Why would his father send him back, if-- oh. This, he realizes, is his punishment. Maybe he secretly is in hell? Does it matter? This is Earth. If he was in hell, it would still be this. This exact same scene, so he's not entirely sure where he is at the moment. Just... that it hurts.

And so he sits, with no where to go, no direction, no purpose, no point. Suffering, alone, and entirely deserving.

Undoubtedly, for the rest of his life.