A New Life (Dean Winchester X Demon Reader)

The Deal

With no clock in the dungeon, or sunlight shining through, it was hard to tell how much time had passed. You could have been sitting there for hours, or for a day or more. You weren't sure, but you knew your backside was extremely sore from being chained to that hard wooden chair. Your legs and arms were numb, tingling from lack of movement. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that even though you were a Demon you still enjoyed eating. 

It wasn't easy, trying to pass the time in the darkened room, unable to move. There was nothing to focus on, unless you counted the fact that your life, and freedom were hanging in the balance. 

Sam and Dean, you could only imagine, were busy upstairs in the library, researching this new threat, trying to figure out if they could believe you. It wouldn't come down to trust, not yet. You had shattered that when you had lived here and hidden the fact that you were a Demon. You weren't sure if trust would ever be a factor again, and that really hurt. You might be a Demon, but you were only a crossroads Demon, and a nice one at that. 

Sam was no doubt trying to persaude Dean, knowing they would need all the help they could get. Dean was probably arguing, letting his heart take precidence over his head. Dean would not want your help, even if you were the last source available. He was hurt, you had hurt him deeply, and you knew it would take him time to forgive. If he ever did. 

As you sat there, imagining what was going on above your head, you knew what you wished for. In your heart you wanted them to decide you wre the best help they could get. That they would let you go on this hunt with them. If that happened, you would do your best to make them see you hadn't never meant to decieve them. Or hurt them. And maybe, with a lot of persuasion on your part, maybe acomplish some healing as well. Healing the rift that had come between you and the only people you had cared about since....well since you had become a Demon. 

Moving the only part of your body not held down, you tapped your fingers against the wooden arm of the chair. Wondering if you would ever learn of their decision. Hoping that they wouldn't decide to deal with it on their own. That was a possiblity, one didn't savor in the least. You wanted, no needed to get out of this dungeon. Much longer, and you weren't sure how you would be able to handle it. 

Just when you had started working yourself into a frenzy, scared that you would be stuck down there forever, footsteps echoed across the titled walls. . Taking deep, calming breaths, you watched as Dean strode into the room, grabbing the only other chair in the dungeon, bringing it with him. Slamming it down right in front of you, you winced as the metal grated against the stone floor. Plopping down in the chair, he placed his hands on his knees as he stared your way. His green eyes dark and mysterious, stubble forming on his chin, more so than his usual five o'clock shadow. 

You couldn't help yourself. You stared right back, just grateful to have him in your sight once again. You missed the warmth of his arms around you, the way he would tuck your head into the curve of his neck. You missed the caring way he would look at you, the way his tongue would dart out to wet his lips. You missed the way he would laugh, his eyes crinkling up at the side, his head thrown back, letting the laughter fully engulf him. You missed the Dean who loved you, not this Dean, who would rather see you dead, just because you were a Demon who had accidentally played him.

"So," His deep, whiskey smooth voice startled you. "You're sure about this Ebony person? That she's all that powerful, that she can really bring Lucifer back?" He asked.

You answered as truthfully as you could. "Yeah she's one scary bitch. I've done my best trying to stay away from her, she's never cared much for me. But thats probably because I've never been evil enough for her."

Dean scoffed at the last part, his eyebrow raising in humor at the suggestion that you were anything but evil. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you think she can bring back Lucifer?"

"Yes." You said simply, knowing it was a huge possibility.

"Damn it." He cussed, standing up and moving the chair. Without another word, he left, and you were once again alone, more curious than before.

They didn't leave you alone for long. Soon Sam and Dean were marching back through the door, identical looks of reignations of their faces. They stared your way, Dean's arms crossed, Sam with his hands in his pockets. Neither spoke, both assessing you, and you wanted to squirm in your seat. 

Finally Sam spoke, always the voice of reason. "Dean and I have been talking about this demon Ebony, what we should do about her, who should help. We've come to the decision that no matter how much we don't trust you.." Dean interrupted him then.

"And we don't trust you, at all." He spat at you, rage, and sadness mixed in his eyes.

"What I'm trying to say," Sam started to say again, glaring at Dean. "We need your help, no matter how much it goes against the grain, you're our best hope."

It was a start, you thought to yourself. You could work with this, work yourself out of your predicament, and even if he couldn't love you anymore, maybe you could part, alive, and as friends.

"I would love to help you!" You answered.

"Here's the deal." Dean replied. "We need to know for sure you won't just smoke out once we get you topside again. So you have two choices."