Don't Go Eating My Heart

Stitches

This chapter takes place after Season 5 but before Season 6. However it may contain spoilers for Season 6. I am not responsible for spoilers in the comments.

It was just another mission, another hit. It was supposed to be simple. She followed the weird odor that marked this particular moron, a scent that would be impossible for her to forget until he was dead. She located her mark of Hector Styer and was figuring out the best time to strike, as the power of invisibility was not a hellhound trait that she had inherited, and she wanted to keep as low a profile as possible. As she laid in wait for Hector to get off work, she noticed another presence. At first she ignored it, thinking that it was just in her head, but after the third time, she knew it wasn't just her imagination. The wisp of black smoke that trailed across the sidewalk a few feet from where she laid under a bench, only ever accompanied a hellhound. A growl almost ripped from her throat in annoyance.

She could not stand them. If they didn't exist, then she would be normal. Since starting working with Crowley, she had only seen them a handful of times. Typically milling about in Hell with their handler-demon who was using them to terrorize other demons. Their whole hierarchy in Hell was more similar to the military than any type of kingdom. Which, although surprising to some, Marley thought it made perfect sense considering angels and demons were warriors. Point being, hellhound handlers were a special rank of crossroad demon similar to that of a MWD (military working dog) handler. The hellhounds collected souls for them, making their jobs easier, giving them more power, and in turn, making them bigger douchebags than normal for a demon. They used the dogs to torment other demons like it was a game, after all, no demon was stronger than a hellhound, heck it would take an archangel to fend one off.

Anyway, she hated them, because away from their handlers, they tormented her. They'd nip at her as she walked, shred her clothes, and pee on her bed. Nothing horrible, but enough for her to detest them. It also meant she'd been hanging out with Griff on a more frequent basis as her room was absolutely destroyed. It must have been the human in her, that's what Griff told her at least, that's why she was craving a connection. She figured he was right, she had gotten used to talking to the boys or Bobby, having someone she could go to regularly, and just talk to and be with. She hated thinking about it, because, without fail, her brain always tried to scramble back to a moment of comfort with them. Whether it was remembering playing board games with Sam- who was now a heartless version of himself, helping with a case and reading lore with Bobby- who she had basically told to disown her or she'd kill him, or watching crappy movies to laugh at and rip them apart for stupidity with Dean- who was off living his Apple pie life that he always wanted with a lady and a kid.

She hated the hellhounds for messing with her, for forcing her to Griff more than she wanted, and for making her think about the people that she used to care about. So when this one crossed her path, or at least a residual tendril of its smoke, she was bristling. The only thing keeping her in place instead of hunting down the hellhound, was Crowley's order to kill Hector Styer. So she waited in the park for him to walk home from work as he always did.

A few minutes later, as the clock hit 5:13, Hector strolled into the park. Marley's blue eyes immediately latched onto the florist who was so desperate for his business to succeed that he blew all his money on the startup. Turns out he chose to put his money into that instead of his sick wife because there was a 70% chance she'd recover without treatment. However, the 30% that the sickness would take over, won. Now it was too late for the treatment to work, and there was nothing left on earth that could save her. Cue the demon deal.

Marley slowly pulled herself out from under the bench, taking a moment to stretch out all 4 legs, her muscles having grown tight. She began walking towards Hector, keeping to the hedge line so he wouldn't spot her. However she was still a few yards away when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. No. Freaking. Way. What freaking buffoon of a demon had sent their hellhound after her mark? This time she didn't stop the growl that escaped her. The sound caused the hellhound to swing its large head towards her. There was no surprise in its features. Zuul merely flipped his tail at her before going back to stalking her mark. Marley lowered her head, ears pinned back against her head in annoyance, as she focused on getting to Hector first. Zuul increased his pace and Marley followed suit, this quickly escalated until they were in a sprint. It was at this moment that Marley flipped the switch in her brain, deciding that Zuul was interfering with her mission to kill Hector.