The Depth of Ebony

Part 3

Dean had left the door open slightly, letting the hallway light filter into the small, chilly room. You were still shackled, chained to the table, but it was a fair sight better than that horrid cage.

Your stomach rumbled but you ignored it, focusing on the more pressing issues on hand. Like what your next step would be.

You wanted to trust Dean Winchester and the people surrounding him. He truly seemed to want to help. But you were nervous and unsure. You had been by yourself so long. This horrid, warped version of yourself. For years you had wondered if you would be saved, but it had been beaten away by your hell hound training. Soon, the urges of the beast, to hunt and kill had taken over your basic instincts until you could get away. You had stayed hidden so long, so lonely, so ready for your hellish life to end. Until you were taken in by these men.

They had given you a chance to hope again. To feel these emotions that were so obscure to your Hell Hound self. You just feared that all of your hopes wouldn't be dashed. That between these hunters, an angel and a witch they would be able to figure something out.

The door squeaked open, and you glanced up to see Dean stepping inside. He had changed out of his flannel and jeans, wearing soft pants and a shirt, with a robe hanging over. His hair was mussed like he had been sleeping. He left the light off, pulling a chair over to you before sinking down.

"Couldn't sleep," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Bet you can't either."

You watched him warily, making no movement. "This is stupid. Talking to a freaking hell hound that I can't even see. Sure, Rowena said you were cursed, but how do I know it's the truth?"

You whimpered then, letting him know that you were there. His eyes shot up, his body stiff as he waited for the attack. But when it didn't happen, he relaxed once again.

"Hell, I don't even know your name or anything," he muttered. "Is it okay if I call you....let's see...

"Call her Y/N," The Witch said from the doorway. "It just seems fitting."

"Y/N," Dean repeated, staring at where you should be. "It's pretty."

Rowena came to stand beside Dean, both of them staring your way even though they couldn't see you. "Dean, I've been thinking," Rowena started slowly. "I have a feeling this Hell Hound won't do us any harm."

"How can we be so sure?" He retorted. "Have you seen a freaking Hell Hound before?"

She tsked, her red hair swishing around her shoulders. She was wearing green silk pajamas, that brightened her hair and her eyes. You wondered if she always looked so regal. "Dean, how old do you think I am? Of course, I've seen a Hell hound before. There are other things besides your holy oil glasses that work."

His arms were crossed, but you could sense that he was nervous and unsure. "So if you've seen one, you know they can't be trusted."

Rowena pressed her tiny manicured hand on his shoulder, and you watched the exchange avidly. "My naive Dean. Sure, she is a Hell Hound now, but she was not always that way. Trust me on this."

Before Dean could argue, Rowena was by your side, her hand resting on your scarred and rough shoulder. "Don't make me regret this," she whispered so only you could hear it. With a snap your bindings fell down, leaving you free. You stayed still for a moment before bounding off the table.

It felt good to stretch your legs after being tied up for so long. "Where is she?" Dean growled, automatically reaching for the gun that wasn't there. "Damn it, Rowena, what did you do?"

"I can sense her," Rowena exclaimed. "She seems happy. Peaceful even."

You were happy. Things were starting to look up. And you weren't going to do anything to ruin your chance at finally being normal once again.

"I still don't like this," Dean muttered. He stood there, glancing around as if he could see you. But without his glasses, he couldn't. Stretching your back, you padded over closely to Dean, staring up at him. Taking a chance, you leaned forward, rubbing your head against his leg, trying to assure him that you would be okay.

"Whoa!" He exclaimed, taking a step back, his eyes blown wide. "What the hell?"

"Dean," Rowena chastised. "She's trying to talk to you."

"She could have taken a bite out of my leg!" Dean argued.

"I'm going to bed," Rowena yawned. "I do need my beauty sleep after all. But Dean, try to calm down. If she was going to bite you, she would have done so by now."

Rowena left you alone with Dean, who still seemed on edge. You wanted to brush your head against his leg again, to let him know that it was okay, but it hadn't worked so well the first time. Sitting there, you let out a soft whine.

"So," Dean sighed. "Is this you telling me you mean no harm?"

You yipped in response and he laughed. "Well, things can't get any weirder. I'm talking to a freaking Hell Hound!"

You yipped again. "Fine. I'm not sure this is the smartest thing to do, but I still don't exactly trust leaving you wandering the Bunker on your own."

You could watch the thoughts flicker across his face before he waved his hand. "Come on, you can bunk down in my room."

You followed behind him, your feet padding softly on the tiled floor. He kept glancing over his shoulder, shaking his head when he remembered he couldn't see you. Pushing open a door, Dean stepped in. "You still there?"

You yipped again, letting him know. "Well, this is my room. Um here," he said, tossing a blanket on the floor. " You can sleep on it."

Circling around the blanket, you sank down, the soft bed foreign after laying on the hard ground for so long. "You good?"

You yipped again. "Don't try anything funky tonight. Got it?" He threatened, and you yipped again. "Good, because you don't want to deal with me angry."

With those words, he slipped out of jeans and flannel, sliding into bed. You watched him, your head on your paws. You could sense this man had a kind heart. You knew that in the coming weeks you would be sticking to his side like glue.