Work Text:
Dying was funny.
You saw the explosion, blinding green, a wave of heat, then nothing. Everything was white and burning, every nerve overloaded to the point of numbness. You couldn't move, see, feel anything. Only think and hope that you would be okay.
Then it started to dim and you heard your heartbeat stop. Well, actually, you suddenly realized there was nothing more to be heard in your body. Silence. Complete silence for a few seconds, then black enveloping you.
Pain was next, blissful pain. At least you could feel again. It felt like you were, at the same time, being forced through a too-small tube and baked in a thousand degree oven. Your "soul", or whatever the hell you want to call it, your "Self", being connected to a new body. Your body awakening to being in the middle of a sun. You felt this pain, you felt it profusely in every inch of your body. Physical pain and spiritual pain, tearing you apart as you were being forced back together.
You were back from the dead, but you weren't alive yet.
Instinct pushed you towards the surface, and without opening your eyes or really thinking at all, you pushed off of your quest bed and towards the surface. You didn't seem to need to breathe and you felt the distinct lack of a heartbeat still. Strange. You swam through impossibly hot flames, through waves of nuclear fusion, through currents of green and white. It hurt so much, but you were incapable of being destroyed. You never burned and it was almost worse because of it, because there was no end to the pain. You swam, alone, until you suddenly reached empty space.
You nearly took a deep breath until you realized that you were actually in space, and thus, a vacuum. No air to fill your lungs. Not that they really needed it. Finally, you opened your eyes. The green sun below you. Your red clothes—dammit, you really were god tier now. You examined your hands closely. No burns, no marks. But they were different. Well, you were in your divine body now.
But if that was true, then…
Your hands wandered. You touched your face—shades still thankfully intact—and your coif, your cape, your arms. Everything the same, though you wondered if maybe you weren't just a little bit leaner, a tad more muscular. Your hands slid over your chest, your belly, and your groin. Well, that was new.
You pressed against your naturally flat chest, flashing back to years of ace bandages, haircuts, therapist appointments, diagnoses, and back-of-the-schoolyard assaults. You remembered every time you hid your head in shame, every time you were unable to leave your house for the anxiety in your belly, every time you cried yourself to sleep hoping for this day. When you would be able to look at yourself and not hate every part of what you saw. When you would be able to show your face to hoping for this day. When you would be able to look at yourself and not hate every part of what you saw. When you would be able to show your face to the world without fear. You felt your chest, your crotch, and you didn't even care if you looked perverse. Finally, it wasn't only in your fleeting dreams that you felt this whole and complete, it was real and constant. This was your body now and you could finally begin to live in it.
You turned around and were only slightly surprised to see your sister. She looked at you and smiled, tears welling out of her eyes. Her fingers lingered on her breasts, unable to leave them. You understood wholly. She shook her head, laughing in disbelief. Drops of her tears floated around her, unbound by gravity. Your own tears mingled with hers, cluttering the space around the two of you with lights reflecting the green of the sun below. You nodded to her, touching her soft hands. She fell into your embrace and you marvelled that her head was so close to your sternum.
"No heartbeat," she said simply. "How do we know we're alive now?"
"I'm more alive than ever," you replied.