demonicbeauty | Open Post

It isn't the first time that Dean's crossed paths with a powerful witch. They're nasty things; he's always hated witches, ever since he was old enough to recognize them and learn what they are. Spiteful and mean and full of venom, they have always been on Dean's shit list, if only because they use far too many bodily fluids for his tastes. A lot were petty, too - dealing in hex bags and leaving them for people to die in horrible ways, or stealing years of their life via a damn poker game.

Nah, he's not a fan.

When he and Sam discover there's some suspicious goings on somewhere up in Maine, they're not in much of a position to actually go together, and sometimes that happens - they'll take separate jobs so more gets done, especially if it's something one of them can handle on their own. Dean isn't really happy about a witch hunt on his own, but he doesn't realize that's what it is until he's face to face with the guy, but luckily for Dean, the bullet hits home.

They're only human, after all. Old and full of magic, but human for the most part.

He drops like a sack of potatoes and it's Dean left with a smoking gun and frazzled nerves, looking around the junked up room in distaste.

Ariadne did not particularly care for her master. For one thing, he'd sort of taken her from her home and everyone and everything she'd ever known. That was a big thing. And for another, he never let her go outside. For...probably more than a year--she wasn't sure--she'd been stuck in his attic, mostly lying on the floor, listening to life happen beneath her.

That was the worst part, really.

Her master was a clever witch, she had to give him that. He hadn't summoned her just to kill her. He wanted her hair and he understood that having a living Alastrian--who could regrow her hair--was more valuable than just plain killing her, as some hunters had done in the past.

But it meant that he left her up there. Sometimes for months, visiting mostly just to take the occasional snipping from her hair. She'd been surviving mostly on these awful things called 'cereal bars.' They tasted like cardboard. Ariadne tried to find the novelty and wonder in everything. But after so many of them, even that novelty wore off.

She was actually sleeping, or at least dozing, when the commotion began. Curious, she pressed her face against the floor, picking up a unfamiliar Human scent. Her master had visitors all the time, but this one didn't sound all that welcome. And after some harsh words came harsh sounds. And then one final boom louder than the rest. She smelled blood. And didn't hear her master speak again.

Normally, she could have looked at all the possible futures available and predicted the most likely one. But not here. Here, she didn't know all the variables. Which meant resorting to her own senses.

Very, very carefully, she pulled up on the trap door to the attic, peering into the hallway below that she'd only visited a handful of times.

She'll be greeted with a hunter standing there, his gun in hand that's slowly being lowered as he surveys the mess he's made. The problem has been sorted, but man there's a whole lot of dangerous paraphernalia in here that he isn't really sure what to do with.

Dean doesn't realize there's an attic - let alone someone in it - until the trap door is lifted and he whirls around, aiming the gun out of instinct, but not pulling the trigger.

"Who's there?"

She wasn't entirely sure what the piece of metal in the stranger's hand was, but judging from the way he wielded it, she was sure it had to be a weapon of some kind. It smelled of explosive powder. And there was a whisper of smoke curling from the barrel.

Alarmed, she pulled the trap door up again, just enough to protect her face. Meanwhile, her wide, gray eyes took in the scene.

Her master was dead.

Ariadne wasn't...happy exactly. She could never take joy in another person's suffering. But at the same time, his death opened up some wild new possibilities for her life, which until just now had been reduced to the size of one small room.

That was, of course, assuming the stranger didn't kill her as well. "Don't hurt me," she said, deciding in the moment to go for the harmless angle. It generally worked best for her, especially with snarly males.

He gets a good look at her, and while Dean doesn't underestimate women (he's had his ass kicked his his fair share of chicks), he doesn't immediately get the vibe that this one is a threat.

Not at the moment, anyway. Entirely possible she'll jump down and slit his throat, so he doesn't lower the gun, not completely.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." He frowns, glancing around at the carnage, then looks back up. "Are you okay? Did he kidnap you or something?" What a friggin' creep.

Ariadne slowly lowered the door again, revealing a bit more of her face. Although she was prepared to draw it back up at a moment's notice.

The fact that his mind immediately went to kidnapping was intriguing. Promising. Perhaps he at least understood her master wasn't...a good man.

Of course, bad men hurt bad men all the time but...

Well, Ariadne couldn't help but have a glimmer of hope.

"Sort of," she said. "It's difficult to explain."

He's sort of squinting at her, because she looks pretty damn familiar to him, like he's seen this chick somewhere, before. Somehow.

"Okaaay..." Weird response, but he'll press later, when this mess has been abandoned and he's not implicated for murder.

Again.

"You need some help down from there?"

She decided that he was safe enough to approach. Even with his weapon and the blood still warm in her master's body, this Human seemed...

Well, she was interested to find out exactly what she was.

Shaking her head slightly, she lowered the stairs to the floor, carefully climbing down. She couldn't quite turn her back to him completely, so it was an awkward climb, craning her neck around so she could keep her eyes on him, over her shoulder.

She landed softly, with bare feet. Her nightgown was old and torn in several places, revealing more of her legs than modesty would expect in Valeria. Her ragged hair was pulled back in a sloppy, uneven braid. And there was a lot of dirt under her fingernails. Ariadne had gotten used to her own scent, but no doubt she smelled something awful.

Master didn't let her come down to bathe.

Her knees stiff and clumsy, she gave the stranger a little curtsy. "Sir," she said, ducking her head.

Oof, yeah. This chick is a little ripe, he's gotta admit. Definitely kidnapped, then. He can't think of another reason she was stuffed in an attic and smelling like..

Well. That.

"Whoa, whoa, none of that, now. My name's Dean, not sir. How long have you been up there?"

Ariadne frowned a little bit. It wasn't a look that seemed natural on her face. After all, she was made for smiling. But she was, perhaps, a little embarrassed. She was usually very good at math but...

"I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe a little less than a year? I tried to keep track but it was...hard."

And she'd lapsed in and out of consciousness, particularly when her master cut her hair. That was the absolute worst.

Awkwardly, she turned her shoulder inward, pulling it against the delicate dip in her throat. "I was allowed to come out a few times. Once, I thought I could see snow outside."

"Jesus. You've been cooped up in here that long?"

He drags a hand through his hair, looking a little perplexed, because he really isn't quite sure what to do with this chick now that he's busted her out. He and Sam -- they kind of have an MO, and that's handle the problem and get the hell out of dodge. They don't linger and pick up the pieces. They can't afford it.

"Do you have anywhere you can go?"

"Go?"

She stared at him, utterly bewildered.

Which, to be fair, she realized that she was. Often enough, she'd entertained fantasies about escaping, about finding a way out of the attic. But none of those daydreams had ever gone much further beyond the front lawn. Now, thinking about it as a reality, she came to a frightening epiphany.

...she had nowhere to go. Not unless she could find a way back to Valeria. But she'd never heard of an Alastrian being summoned and finding a way to return.

Which meant she'd have to be the first. But how?

She shook her head at the snarly male, the corners of her lips twitching a little. "No," she said. "I don't think so..."

"Yeah. Family, friends? Anyone?"

Because really taking her with him is a bad idea, but what the hell else is he supposed to do? Leave a freakin' Natalie Portman look alike standing here covered in filth with a dead body?

No. He's no gentleman, but he certainly can't do that.

"Jesus," he mutters, shaking his head a little. "Okay - uh. Do you have any stuff? Get it and lets go. We'll figure it out."

"Stuff...no. No stuff." Only the bronze cuff on her arm, that she was amazed her master hadn't taken from her. It was purely decorative, of course. Just a token from Aunt Lysia. But it was quite literally all she had, besides her filthy nightgown. Her only...link home.

Absently, she touched it with her fingertips, before blinking herself back into focus, looking at him.

Ariadne shook her head. "Where are we going?"

Well, at least she doesn't have luggage he has to haul around.

"My hotel. You...desperately need a shower, and I need to reconnect with my brother and figure out what the hell we're gonna do."

She glanced down at the body on the floor. The blood was pooling, forming a dark reflection that stared back up at her. She didn't know what a hotel was and she was sure there was a great deal of risk in going to one with this man but...what other choice did she have? Stay and be found? Try to make her way in a world she didn't even know? Maybe eventually, but not right now.

Ariadne needed time.

"I'll go with you," she said carefully. "But do you promise that you're not going to hurt me?" She raised her voice a little, in a manner she found often appealed to snarly males. "On your honor?"

He gives her a strange look, a brow lifted.

"Course I'm not gonna hurt you. I'd have already done it." Really, she talks like a fairy tale or something.

"Sure. On my honor. C'mon. Let's get outta here before the cops show up."

"All right," she said, reaching between her legs to pull the back of her nightgown up to her waist, creating a pair of makeshift trousers. She tucked wrapped it around her waist and tied it off. "But...what are cops?"

Poor Dean.

Unfortunately, the extent of slang that Ariadne had managed to pick up from the world had mostly come from pressing her ear to the floor, listening to her master talk, when he had visitors. And he didn't have them very often.

Sometimes, he killed them.

Smart. He doesn't think they need to run, but you never know.

"Uh. Police?" Dean gives her a weird look, gesturing for her to follow him. His car is parked off the beaten path, just waiting for them to get in and tear ass outta here.

"You really don't know what cops are?"

She followed after him, as nimble as she could manage, considering how little exercise she'd had over the last year or so. She'd seen most of the house by this point, but she hesitated just for a moment as they crossed over the threshold. Her first steps into a new world and all.

But there wasn't time to be sentimental, for now.

"Are police like...constables?" she asked. "Knights, perhaps?" It was hard to put this place into the schema of her own world, with so many new words to learn.

And the smells! A thousand new scents started to hit her all at once. And most of them were terribly unpleasant. Burning scents. Painful scents. Unnatural scents, and that was something, considering the state she was in.

She followed Dean to the strange, black carriage sitting on the side of the...road? It seemed like a road.

It was just unnaturally smooth.

Everything that comes out of her mouth gets weirder and weirder and weirder.

"Knights? I guess so. Probably more like constables." He looks bewildered, keys jingling in his hand as he walks right over to the Impala and unlocks the door, holding it open for her.

"You into LARPing or something?"

Ariadne didn't know what that was, but her curiosity over the word was quickly replaced by an intense curiosity for the inside of the carriage.

Cautiously, she inched forward, peering through the door. It was roomier than most carriages she'd seen. With luxurious seats. They looked and smelled a little bit like leather, although no leather she'd ever encountered before.

She frowned a little, then looked up at Dean. "Do you...live here?"

"In...my car?"

He gestures, go on, get in. He refuses to be embarrassed about his answer, though - because no, he and Sam aren't homeless. They have the Impala. No matter what happens to his baby, Dean will always fix her right up.

"Kind of. Yeah."

Uncertainly, she crawled in with her hands on the seat, before pulling the rest of her body inside. She curled up against the leather, turning to look over her shoulder at the back seat, with the long, comfortable-looking bed. Then again, she'd been sleeping on the floor for a year. Everything seemed more comfortable than that.

She turned to look at the front of the car and that's when she caught her reflection in one of the mirrors.

Wasn't she a sight?

Astonished by how thin she'd gotten, she pressed a hand to her cheek, her eyes wide. "By the gods...who is that person?"

Edited (Edit for notifs :)) 2021-09-14 00:19 (UTC)

Yeah, girlfriend - you look a hot mess. No wonder Dean was so shocked.

"Yeah, that's you. We're gonna swing through a drive through, get you something to eat. Then hit the motel, see about a shower. You'll probably have to wear something of mine til we can get you clothes of your own."

Ariadne turned to look at him. He was showing her such incredible kindness. After such a long time without it. Her eyes started to glisten like coins in a fountain. She knew that if she wasn't careful, she might start tearing up, but Ariadne wasn't going to allow it.

Maybe she looked frail on the outside.

But inside, she was steel.

And she never let herself cry.

"Thank you," she said. Simple and honest. Her voice strong in spite of everything else. "You're so very kind."

"I...dunno about all that. You just relax, okay? You're safe now."

It's the best he can offer as he eases them out of the dark aura of the house, the car growling as Dean hits the gas, tires spinning, kicking up dirt as they peel out and away.

They're out in bumfuck, but the closer they get back to the small town they're staying in, the more civilization starts to appear. The golden arches of a McDonald's gleams like a homing beacon, and he pulls into the drive through and glances over at her.

"Not the best, not the worst. You like burgers?"

Seeing as Ariadne had never taken a ride in a car before, she was utterly riveted. There was a gasp as they took off. And her jaw dropped as she watched the world start to fly past the many windows. In truth, she didn’t even know where to look. Her eyes danced.

And she couldn’t help wondering just how fast the contraption could go. It was very tempting to try to open a window and stick her head out, just to feel the wind in her hair.

Just like flying.

For now, though, she settled for trying to take in as much as she could. And there was so much!

She managed to make it remarkably long without asking a question. But then one was directed at her. She had to answer, right?

“What’s a burger?”

"Oh, uh..."

How do you describe a hamburger, what the hell.

"A delicious lunch," he finally says, because he isn't really sure how else to put it. "I'll get you a Big Mac. All the fixings, then you can decide if you like it."

Although she had about a thousand questions, Ariadne swallowed them. She knew what 'lunch' was, and she knew exactly how hungry she was. The last thing she needed to do was annoy him into changing his mind.

Especially when the air was tinged with spices.

...admittedly, they weren't spices she recognized, but Ariadne had learned not to be picky.

She nodded, anyway. "All right..."

This is going to be a very...very complicated ordeal. Dean drags a hand over his face and breathes out a sigh, wrist settled on the wheel as they creep through the drive through, finally reaching the mic.

"Yeah, I need two Bic Mac meals, extra large, regular coke for me and, uh." Christ, what would she like?

"...tea for the other one. Thanks." Tea is safe. Right? God he hopes so. He doesn't want anyone spitting something they don't like all over his baby.

Ariadne brightened at the mention of tea, actually. It was one of those Elf luxuries that she'd grown to like, even enjoy. Not just the taste, but the ritual of it. When someone made tea for you, that meant a certain amount of affection, respect, effort, or combination of all three.

She gave Dean an absolutely beautiful smile, bowing her head in gratitude.

...even if he wasn't the one preparing the tea, it was thoughtful.

"Is there a person in that box?" she asked, pointing to the drive-thru speaker. "Or is it some kind of telepathy tile?"

Well, he's never been smiled at quite like that before just for ordering some McDonald's, and it draws a flush to his cheeks, and he clears his throat.

"Um, no. I guess the easiest way to explain it is telepathy. It's a radio, but I'm gonna guess that's not something you're familiar with."

"Radio..." She tried to place the term. But it was no good. Perhaps she'd heard of it once, but that had been in another lifetime. In a world she had to leave behind. At least, she shook her head. "Sorry, no."

It struck her like a splash of cold water.

There was so much she was going to have to learn.

And it wasn't that she couldn't do it. She knew she could. But it was just so much. "Dean...what am I going to do?"

"Didn't think so."

And because this is McDonald's, it's going to take forever. He glances over at her, running a hand through his hair.

"...Well, first thing? You're gonna eat. Then when we get back to the motel, you're gonna shower. One thing at a time, okay?"

"No, no," she shook her head. "I know that part."

She did. And she was grateful--so very, very grateful--for his kindness and generosity. But she couldn't depend on it forever.

That wouldn't be fair to him.

Ariadne sighed. "I don't know how I'm going to fit into this world," she said. "I've been a prisoner the entire time. And I don't think there's a way for me to go home again. I know...I have to go forward. But there's so much to learn and I..."

Well, she didn't have anyone. She didn't even know anyone, beside her former master and Dean.

"There might be a way for you to go back," he says, tapping the wheel with his fingertips.

"Sam and I...we deal a lot with weird stuff. Kind of experts at it, really. And hell, the bunker has a ton of stuff we haven't even catalogued yet. There's gotta be something there, right?"

She honestly didn't know. Back home, she could have predicted the probabilities of a perfect possible future. And no matter how narrow the margin, she would have believed it was do-able.

But here?

She still didn't even know what a McDonald's was.

"I don't know," she said. "It's possible but...I don't want to be a burden on you. You've already done so much."

"Well.."

He chuckles as they inch forward.

"It's kinda what we do, me and my brother. Hunt monsters and save people, help them however we can. So it isn't a burden. At all."

"Monsters?"

She did her best to school her features, to remain as neutral as possible. But she was more than a year out of practice. So her eyes widened just a little bit.

Of course, Ariadne knew who the monster was: Her former master. He was the one who had kidnapped her, locked her in a room, and used her hair for the-gods-knew-what (probably to hurt people). That was, in so many ways, the very definition of monster. The problem was, not everyone saw it that way.

And there were more than a few people who judged a monster based on sight.

Ariadne was a natural at hiding her visage. But even she wasn't perfect. If she stayed with Dean for any length of time...he would see.

Would he call her a monster, then?

"Yeah, monsters. Stuff that kills people, tries to hurt them, eat them. Bad things, evil things."

He'll probably freak out, but you know. As long as you don't eat people, they'll be a-okay.

"I don't do any of that." She said it very quickly, more or less without thinking. But it was just so important to her, to let him know that she wasn't dangerous. That she wasn't a monster. So the words just kind of tumbled out before she could stop herself or think twice.

And then, chagrined, she put her hands over her mouth and eyes.

He gives her a bit of a funny look, tipping his head as he pulls to the first window and passes over a twenty to pay.

"I didn't think you did. You alright over there?"

"No, not really."

It was perhaps the most honest thing she'd ever said. Not only to another person, but to herself as well. Because she simply wasn't doing well. She was better than she had been, in the sense that she was free and with a nice man and actually going to eat something for a change.

But all the rest of it was just...a lot.

Scrubbing her face, she lowered her hands, looking at him with her wide, gray eyes. "But you give me hope. If other Humans are as kind as you are, then maybe this world is...going to be all right."

Open Post

im terrible at starters so sorry

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i can't remember what canonpoint i picked for him so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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