Young Blood [SUPERNATURAL]

Part 22: Down the Darkest of Tunnels

a/n: i hope u r ready to be hurt.

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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S GONE?"

Disbelief didn't begin to cover how Dean felt, not even close. For a brief moment, he was seeing such intense red that he could only breathe in hard through his nose. I turned my back for a second, and she was gone, Sam had said. Immediately, Dean's mind conjured a thousand awful pictures- Ash bloody, face streaked with tears, afraid, terrified, angry and somehow hating him.

"I'm going to track her phone." Sam's voice was clipped with its own anxiety. "I'll find her. I'll find her-"

"I'm coming." Dean hung up. His mind was functioning in a blur. He felt sick. He couldn't stand it. This wasn't how it ended. He couldn't allow it. He wouldn't. He would fight tooth and nail for her. He would kill and beat and destroy until he saw her light eyes staring up at him. Everything else shrunk in his mind; their fight didn't matter. There wasn't even room large enough inside himself to feel ashamed of what he had said.

Wherever Ash was, whatever she was going through, in danger or not, Dean hoped she knew he would come for her. He needed her to know that he would always come for her.

____

Once, when Ash was a teenager and living in the orphanage, she had a strange dream. With the foggy environment of a dream wrapping her in a dense haze, she realized she was much younger in the dream, but she was in the same room. It made sense because she had been in the same room of the orphanage for many years. She recognized the same droll walls in the dream, recognized the pattern of rocking horses sketched and faded on the wallpaper. They also made her feel tragically too old, tragically out of place.

She was paralyzed in the dream. Her arms and legs were pulled taut and stiff. Immobilized and afraid, her big eyes flickered around the room, spotting the moving shadow immediately. In an instant, the shadow materialized at her bedside. The man was somehow familiar yet unremarkable. His face was plain and wrinkled, the type of face you could see at the grocery store and immediately forget. He smiled at Ash as she fought her frozen muscles, and when he blinked, his irises turned a sinister yellow.

The scream that wanted to rip from her throat was swallowed by the dream. Her eyes could only widen to saucers as the man bit his own wrist. There was an awfully vivid tearing sound, the terrible sound of skin being ripped away from flesh, and then the smell of blood blossomed. Ash felt sweat on her neck and spine. She wanted to scream or fight but all that she could do was watch as the bloody mass of flesh was raised above her face. Blood, dark enough to be black, dripped heavily from the gash, onto her parted lips. The taste made her eyes roll- metallic and repulsive, searing her lips. She began to buzz, tremble. She felt bizarre.

The yellow eyed man winked terribly. "I'll be back for you before you know it."

The dream rushed back to Ash as she stared at the inhuman black eyes focused on her. Without bothering to rationalize, Ash acknowledged the dream to be a memory. A nightmare that happened to her. This moment, here with this black-eyed demon, she felt the same dream like quality.

She finally asked the question she truly wanted an answer to. "What are you?" Her voice trembled, as weak as a gust of wind blowing a blade of grass.

The woman rolled her eyes, the cold eyes transformed into a watery blue mask. "Demon."

Demon.

Absurd laughter bubbled at Ash's lips. The sound echoed throughout the abandoned basement. "A demon." Ash smiled widely, knowing she probably looked like a maniac. She felt like one. "And I'm a fucking angel."