itsnotmymind (itsnotmymind) wrote,

SPN Fic: Not Just Some Murderer

Title: Not Just Some Murderer

Author: itsnotmymind

Warnings: Reference to the killing of people and consuming of their pituitary glands

Summary: Amy Pond's history of killing people

Author notes: My inexplicable obsession with Supernatural's Amy Pond continues. This fic came to me in a dream. Some of it contradicts my past fanon about Amy Pond, but that's okay. I can believe in multiple contradicting bits of fanon all at the same time.

Word Count: ~1037

Disclaimer: Somebody who isn't me owns Amy Pond.

When Amy went on the run as a girl, she killed people. She had never killed before, but it was the only way she knew how to survive. She learned quickly how to stab a person in the back of head and end their life, how to remove the much-needed pituitary gland, and how to feed.

This way of living didn't last long. Not long after she went on the run, she found a Kitsune settlement in Oklahoma. She'd been there as a girl, but only briefly. Her mother didn't get along well with others. Now, nearly an adult, she moved in with her own people. Most of the Kitsune fed off the living, but some Kitsune fed only off the dead. Amy quickly fell in with that crowd, many of whom worked as morticians or other careers that gave them access to dead bodies. Amy learned all the tricks.

Like many Kitsune who fed off the dead, Amy grew to miss fresh brains. And like many Kitsune who had a conscience about killing, Amy came up with another solution: Kill only those who deserved to die.

Some Kitsune were casual about who they killed. She's a thief, she's a bad person. He yelled at his girlfriend, he probably hits her. Not Amy. She only went after the worst of the worst. When she couldn't find bad enough people--which happened more often than she'd like--she fed only off the dead.

Like most Kitsune, whether they cared who their victims were or not, she fed only off of those who were at the bottom of society's totem pole. These people were less likely to missed and whose deaths were treated less seriously. It might be pleasurable to kill and eat a politician whose decisions led to the deaths of innocent people, but it wasn't safe.

Amy was nineteen years old and already in school to be a mortician when this behavior came to an end. The Kitsune religion, similar to Catholicism, requires confession. Unlike catholicism, confession is given to the empty air of the temple rather than to a person, although usually one checks in with a priest, so that the priest knows you are there. Amy came regularly to confession--the required once every ten days--and confessed not only her own sins, but those of whoever she had killed during that period.

One day Amy decided to skip confession. She had been invited to a party, which she was very excited about it. She was also excited about one of the boys who was supposed to be there. It so happened that Amy knew a new priest would be at the temple that day. Amy, not wanting anyone to know that she was skipping, asked her friend Mica to go in her stead, and pretend to be her. Mica wasn't one for confession most of the time, but she agreed to go for Amy's sake. Amy told Mica all her sins--and the sins of the woman she'd ended that weekend--so that Mica could do confession for her.

The new priest was there, but so was one of the usual priests. When Amy showed up again ten days later, she was in trouble. "You think you will be forgiven if someone else confesses in your stead?" Raymond, the usual priest who had been there, asked.

"I was sorry," Amy said. "Does it matter if I'm sorry here or at a party?" Things had gone nowhere with the boy, and she was not in the best of moods.

"It matters," Raymond said. "Amy, repentance is not just a feeling. It's an act. You can't just let someone else confess your sins. You have to do it. You have to show that you are sorry. Someone else cannot be sorry for you."

A seed was planted in Amy's mind at that moment. It took a few weeks for the seed to sprout into a full grown tree. "Someone else cannot be sorry for you." It stuck with her, the next time she killed a man who terrorized his children and went to confession for him.

By killing these people, Amy realized, she was destroying any chance that had at redemption. She took confession for them in a way to make up for that, but it didn't help them in the slightest. They were not sorry. They had no chance to be sorry. They were still the people they were when she killed them: abusers, killers, monsters.

She wondered if her mother would have ever been sorry, if given the chance.

Amy knew then that she could not kill again. And she never killed to feed herself again.

There was another argument, of course. The argument that by killing these people, she was preventing future bad behavior from them. Amy didn't really think of this argument. She'd heard it of course, from Kitsune who killed only those they felt deserved it, but when making her decision, it simply didn't cross her mind.

When Amy was twenty, she became pregnant. Jacob was born a healthy boy, who, Amy decided, would never feed on fresh brains. Robert, the boy's Kitsune father, was less interested in Amy's promise, and within two years Jacob had eaten fresh brains at his father's home. A year later, Amy left the Kitsune settlement. By this point, she had her own degree and could work as a mortician. She no longer needed to rely on other Kitsune. The older she got, the less comfortable she was sharing her life with Kitsune who fed on the living. She moved Jacob and herself to a human world and a human town, and it was there that she settled down to live.

There was no Kitsune temple in Bozeman, but Amy kept the ritual alive, doing confession every ten days with her son. It was, she decided in contrast to what her priests had said, the remorse that mattered more than the details of the ritual.

Robert still saw Jacob on occasion, and if he fed Jacob fresh brains, there was nothing Amy could do about it. As time went on, these visits became more infrequent. Amy was torn between sadness for her son, and relief.

And then Jacob got sick.
Tags: fic, spn

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