𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 | 𝐃.𝐌

₄₃ ᴅʏɪɴɢ

Sρσƚιϝყ ρʅαყʅιʂƚ ϝσɾ αʂʂαʂʂιɳʂ
ʅιɳƙҽԃ ιɳ ɱყ Ⴆισ
┈˃̶༒˂̶┈

Dying is easy and catastrophic. Silent and deafening. Like deep, dark lonely water. Like the ocean reaching shore and crashing against the rocks wildly. Dying can be overwhelming or it can be calm, peaceful. Death is inevitable, the one thing that anything with a pulse cannot control. For some, it can be abrupt, it can be calm and it can be peaceful.

But for Ava, it was torturous, it was brutal and it was the one thing she did not want. She was not ready, not with so much more than needed to be done. So many things she still needed to say.

But when it came, when the inevitable thing called death greeted her, she didn't fight it. Her heart was too shattered and this war. All that she had been through and all that she had lost. She found that when death held out its hand to her, she took it and was taken somewhere peaceful.

Death can be a curse or it can be a blessing.

For Ava, it was both.

But she was ready for it. She accepted it.

So why is she breathing, why are her eyes open and why is the sun warming her skin? She must be in that peculiar place called heaven because she never thought she would feel the sun on her skin again. It was always a desire, something she had only ever dreamed about, ever since she had been locked in that cell after the battle of Hogwarts.

The war, all the fires and bombs and fighting, it had taken away the sun. The world had become so engulfed in smoke that even when the sun should have been shining, it was not.

But Ava left that world. She died. She felt her body fade away and felt the peace that came over her body.

So why is she breathing?

Why can she feel her heartbeat in her chest?

"Ava?"

Ava turned her head to the beautiful echo of a voice calling her name. Her vision was blurred and foggy and she could just about make out her surroundings. She was lying on her back, looking up at a crack in the ceiling of what looked like an old factory building. The sun shone through the hole. It looked like a bomb had come through and exploded right where she was lying. That would have been a few years ago, now only the mangled building was left.

"Ava, thank Merlin that you are okay," Ava turned her head, her eyes focusing on the image of Dean as all the blurriness went away.

She must be in heaven because Dean is locked up in the dungeons awaiting his execution. Dean is going to die and Ava can't save him anymore because she is dead. Just like the rest of her friends. Dean is not sitting beside her.

"She isn't okay, Dean," another familiar voice, "look at her. But she is breathing and she has a pulse again," Ava turned her head to the other side and saw dark ginger hair. George, "but she is not okay."

"You know what I meant," Dean said with a little sigh, "I'm glad she is going to be alright. I'm glad we all are."

Ava tried to sit up. She was confused and tired and sad and scared. She needed to sit up, she needed to figure out what was going on. But when she did, an agonizing pain erupted inside her stomach and she cried out in pain.

"Woah, careful," Dean said.

"Don't move, you'll hurt yourself and tear Mallory's stitches," George said, placing such a gentle hand on Ava's shoulder which was strange because his hands were so big and so strong and yet he touched her like she was a butterfly, fragile and delicate.