"I've been told plenty of times I'm a monster - it's time to prove them wrong. Even the devil knows that's a compliment."
Her friend was one of many to die at the hands of the Winchesters. Another splash of blood on their red stained hands. They di...
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The drive to the bunker was an awkward one - Dean kept sneaking long glances into the rear-view mirror even though the road behind them was empty, his hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel. His forehead was creased with worry and stress - this didn't shock Ebony much, considering the amount of trouble they had to deal with on a daily basis. Now she was going to be included on that long list of problems. It made Ebony beam. His lips were drawn so into his face she expected all of his other facial features to be sucked into the whirlpool, and his green eyes full of memories and nightmares betrayed no emotion, not revealing a single speck of feeling. It was like he was a statue. Sam was asleep, head knocking slightly on the window, legs folded underneath him. It reminded Ebony of when a giraffe sits down, their spindly legs always packed tightly beneath their bodies. Songs from the early 90's and late 80's pulsed through the radio, the rock music vibrating the entire car, the beat of the song harmonising with the roar of the engine. The heating was on, yet did nothing to warm the chill within the battered car that had seen so much, seen so many life changing moments and witnessed the most meaningful soul wrenching times to the things that you think about on a sleepless night, when wondering about the small lights in the darkness that shape you to be the person you are.
Ebony was well aware of everything that was happening in the car, despite the ear buds shoved so deeply into her ears shes impressed that they hadn't disappeared, blasting music that she hadn't updated in years. Which would explain why she was listening to Walking on Sunshine, but then again, she didn't care, since the music was only a ruse, to make them believe she wasn't alert and relatively comfortable. Though it was hard not to bob her head. She had to resist the urge to squirm under Deans hawk like gaze, choosing to stare out of the window to the endless greenery that hid any other colours, constantly demanding attention.
"Is there something on my face Dean? Or am I just that irresistible?" She asked in a smooth voice, still turned towards the window.
"You know me, safety first." Dean forced a chuckle, knowing the instant it passed his lips it sounded plastic.
"That's it though - I don't know you. I don't know your middle name or your favourite food, or what your pet peeves are. I've only heard stories, and in all the tales I've ever been told about you, safety has never been a key feature." She stopped talking, calmly taking out her head phones, and spun around fully to Dean. His hands colouring had turned white, as though an artist had split some white paint on a black background. "It's understandable though; with the adrenaline pumping, seat belts aren't exactly considered a necessity."
He acknowledged her sly remark. Dean only nodded, no longer taking cautious looks in the mirror. His gaze was fixed straight ahead.
"Was I out of line, Dean? I'm sorry if I was, it's been a long time since I've had small talk with someone, well, normal." She laughed heartily, and looked down nervously into her lap. No better way to play innocent than to pretend as though you're full of light, when in reality, you're exploding darkness.
