What if Sam and Magda have the same Zanna
- [ Whyyyy? I blame this on you. Here, have some feels. ]
Being an imaginary friend is serious business; Sully should know.
There’s always something left over after it ends, always a faint awareness of his kids. His kids. The other Zanna sometimes shake their heads. “Don’t prod,” they say, “It fades.” It’s not good to hold on so tightly, they tell him. Job like this, it takes a lot out of you—seeing all that pain and trying to bring brightness, trying to paint bright colors over all the ugliness. Zanna can’t get drunk. Forget, they say. Let go. Especially ones like Sam, the messy ones.
Move on. You give all of yourself to every kid, but you’ve gotta have the sense to take it back when it’s over or they’ll break you. But maybe these kids deserve to have someone break for them.
Sully felt when Sam died the first time, and the second time. He felt when Sam jumped into Hell and left the plane the Zanna operated on. A flutter—a blink, and Sam was gone, like a TV turned off.
They tell Sully he’s wrong to hold on like this, that Winchesters break everything they touch. Sully knows better, of course. Sam has always been a hero; that will never change.
Sully was with Magda for only a few days, a special case no one else dared to touch. Too old, a lot of them said of the regressed, suffering mind that had all but cried out to them. Too unstable, too dangerous, that one, with the powers to detroy Zanna if she wished. Lonely, despairing, lost. Can’t help every kid. Save your resources for the ones you can actually save.
She reminded him of Sam, so Sully went.
She found solace for just a few days before her mother had caught her talking to him. “Demon,” the woman had whispered when she saw her daughter speaking to empty air. “Consorting with demons.”
Magda had bled out her penance for finding peace with him. Sully knew when he wasn’t wanted, when his presence caused more harm than good. He left.
Magda was crossed off the list of potentials as a mutually destructive relationship. Didn’t mean Sully couldn’t still sense her sometimes, that bone-deep despair and self-hatred. (Like Sam, so much like Sam.)
He felt when she met Sam, felt something like light growing in him, two souls mending each other. He had never hated the bond, but he never loved it more than when he felt two of his kids bring each other such frail, tentative joy.
He feels them part, better for having met, feels the pain he never quite healed in Sam scabbing over, senses a hope within Magda he barely thought possible.
Sully cherishes that while it lasts, and he feels good.
He senses Magda fading, of course.
He’s by her side in an instant, just by thinking it. Benefits of the bond, if you hold onto it.
“It’s all right,” he says, stroking her hair as she fades. He doesn’t let her hear the tears that threaten his voice. “You told me you believed in heaven, right?”
He watches a Reaper appear, stares her down as she settles in front of Magda, gaze steady. She’s calm and self-possessed, with a leather jacket and tall boots and warm, dark skin.
He’s only a Zanna, but he’ll make sure this Reaper takes Magda where she belongs, he swears it. The reaper stares at him, raises an eyebrow, and nods, as if amused by his helpless defiance.
Sully turns back to Magda. “Well, that’s where you’re going. You’re going right to heaven, Magda. You’ve always been so good. Here,” he whispers. He feels Magda’s soul let go of her redundant body, heart no longer beating. “Here. This lady’s gonna bring you home. You’ll be so happy there.”
Magda looks at him, and she smiles.
“Come on,” the Reaper says, and when Magda takes her hand, Sully watches her soul spiral upward in a blaze of light. The Reaper nods, once, and disappears, leaving Sully on the ground with the vacant, bloodied body of his girl.
Let go, they’ve always told him. It’ll drive you mad to hold on to them. Zanna live too long to tie themselves to every assignment.
And maybe they’re right. His record is the spottiest of them all. Maybe he’s sewn so much of himself into his kids that they take it with them whenever they go.
He remembers her smile as she faded, though, remembers meeting Sam last year, remembers the warmth Sam’s meeting with Magda brought to both of them, feeling the both of them grow because of it.
No, he’ll never regret any of it. He’ll see every last one of them off if he has to, break himself open for every beautiful soul.
These are his kids. They deserve that much.