[HIATUS] Runaway ° Supernatural

ii. into the dark

"might looks so grand from a distance that you need to touch. it gives a vision of the simple but it isn't much." sever, iamamiwhoami

"Sam, Dean, I need to speak with you."

Artie assumed that, by the barely phased, if not nonchalant looks on the brother's faces, they were used to this. The man glanced at Artie suspiciously as she stared in awe, trying to figure out how he had entered the room without noticing, "Alone," He added. Artemisia was strangely relieved to hear this, yet had a pressing curiosity about who he was and what he needed to talk about.

"Wait a minute. Not to intrude or anything, but who are you?" She questioned, "And where did you come from?

He stared at her for a moment with an annoyed gaze that intimidated her in the slightest. She recoiled as he lifted his arm and touched her forehead. Her eyes immediately snapped shut.

The light began to drain away from everything it touched, soon becoming too dark for even the shadows, so they left, too, leaving Artemisia in darkness. The only light seemed to emanate from behind her, so she naturally turned towards it. A bright orb floated in midair, and the darkness, which seemed to act more like a gas or smoke than the absence of light should, began to engulf it.

It soon began forming into something human like. Artie stared, mesmerized, as the form distorted. It stretched and grew, then shrank again until it seemed satisfied. There was an extremely bright flash, which shocked Artie and knocked her to the ground, where she stayed as the form began to smooth and colorize. It was obviously a human now, with no discernable features except that it was female, and it was approaching Artie.

Before long, it became very apparent who-or what-this thing was.

Her mother.

Her mother, except different. Her clothes and hair were singed, and her skin had multiple burns on it. Although she had suppressed the thought during her adrenaline rush, the second it wore off that was what she imagined, albeit the thing in front of her was alive. The strangest thing, though, was that her previously deep blue eyes would occasionally flash a different color so quickly that Artie couldn't tell what it was.

"Artie, I miss you so much." Her mother's voice was raspy but melodic, as if it were some terrible harmony that was strangely beautiful.

She realized this had to be a dream, and the sight of her mother was comforting in the worst way possible, "I-I know this is a dream. I need to-"

Her mother put a finger up to her lips and shushed, "It's okay, sweetie. I know you didn't start that fire." She started towards Artie, who shrunk back into the shadows until she saw her mother's familiar smile. She held out her hand and Artie took it, but immediately felt a pang of regret in her chest when the smile turned into a slightly sinister grin.

"How are you... here?"

She laughed dryly, "I'm here to help. Think of me as your... guardian angel." The last words seemed like they were dripping venom. Her mother snapped her fingers and the darkness dissipated from around Sam, Dean, and the other man.

"You have to take the girl, Artemisia, with you. She is vital in stopping Lilith from breaking the final seals." He spoke in a monotonous voice with little emotion showing, but she could sense the urgency lacing it.

"Dammit, Cas, I'm a hunter, not a babysitter."

"Dean, she will determine the fate of millions. If Lilith proceeds undisturbed-"

"She's just a kid." Dean continued, and with that Artie felt slightly comforted, since he was right, she was only seventeen.

Sam held up his hand, "Cas is right. If she really is that important, then we need her." He looked in her direction, and she jumped, thinking he might have seen her.

"No, not happening!"

"Dean, the safest place for her right now is with us. There's no way in hell the other angels aren't looking for her, and I wouldn't be surprised if the demons were looking for her too."

The two looked at each other for quite a while, while the person she assumed was named Cas stood, glancing between the two.

Dean eventually caved, sighing, "Alright, fine. But the second it gets dangerous we get her out of there."

"Yeah, of course," Sam replied as Cas disappeared with a slight breeze.

Artie stared in awe, though she assumed this was still a part of the dream, even though it was scarily realistic, "Angels? Demons? What the hell are they talking about?"

"Language," Her mother scolded, her voice faltering ever so slightly as the darkness began to recede, "These things are real, and they're trouble. Go with them."

"What? I can't-"

"You're not a child anymore. I know you can handle it, and I know you'll make the right choices, all right?" She placed a cold hand on Artie's cheek, "One thing, though. Don't let anybody know I've spoken to you. I'm watching you, and a mistake will result in a punishment, understand?"

Artie nodded as her mother's face was engulfed in darkness and the rest of her followed. The darkness soon completely faded away and she found herself back in the seat of the brothers' car.

-----------------------------------------

"Mornin' sunshine," Dean half-heartedly attempted as her's pounded in her chest, she awoke with a jolt in a cold sweat and she could barely remember to breathe, "Everything okay?"

She couldn't make out any words so she gave a slight nod in response before seeing a familiar sign, "Isn't there a, uh, motel down the road? You can just drop me off there," She suggested, to which Sam and Dean exchanged concerned glances.

"Actually, Artie-" Sam started, before Dean cut him off.

"Sounds great. You got enough cash?"

She checked her pockets to make sure it was still there, and nodded.

They pulled into the parking lot and the two gave her their numbers, 'just in case', they said.

"I'll live for a little while, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it, huh?" She said as she exited the car, "Thanks for the ride, guys. I really appreciate it."

As she checked into her room, wondering how she made it past the woman at the front desk considering that she was wanted for arson, she grabbed her key and made a point not to show her face any more than needed.

Room number fourteen had the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and sex that generally filled these hotel rooms. Usually she would gag, but she welcomed anything resembling comfort at this point.

Artie fell backwards onto her bed, exhausted, although she noted that she had just slept. Using the extra pillow, she propped up her sprained ankle and laid back down. Her eyelids became heavy, but as the comfort of the bed dared her to sleep, she was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the lock on the handle clicking and the creaky door being slowly pushed open.