BEAUTIFULLY SINFUL

After her promise to Sam, the walk to the motel had been long and awkward. She was quiet the entire time, lips zipped in case something else slipped out, hands thrust into the crowded pits she called pockets, old sweet wrappers rustling and making her heart jolt with each noise that shattered the serenity. Her fingers played with the bullet in her pocket, and she reminded herself to dispose of it somewhere. The cool bullet brought back frenzied memories of the werewolf, and Ebony would be lying if she said that she didn't enjoy replaying them in her head. Her trainers kicked up dirt, splattering brown on the bottomless black. 

She wasn't cold, in fact the harder the wind blew at her, the warmer she got. It was like the wind was trying to get her attention, to make her feel anything but the endless pride she felt gathered in every pore of her body. She had scared a Winchester, and that was one step closer to the endgame. 

Ebony Walters would kill them. 

But before then, she'd make their lives a living Hell. So bad that death would be a mercy. 

Her mouth tugged involuntarily to the side, revealing a smirk that shook the calmest sea. The thought of their blood creating a lake in which she would wash in, gave her the feeling of immense pleasure, her emotion evident on her face. How at times she hated how her face betrayed so much, but at the same time was grateful for it's innocence - no one would ever believe the pretty girl would be the one to drive a knife in your gut. 

And that's what she was going to do with the Winchesters. 

In little to no time, they had finally reached the motel. Sam's shoulders sagged in relief: he couldn't handle the silence any longer, and being in Ebony's presence without wetting himself. Ebony, however, enjoyed the tense hush, as it let her relish in the shadows of her mind, where her most murderous thoughts and ideas lay dormant. They always gave her comfort. 

Sam scurried off without even a goodbye, taking long strides with his spindly legs. It amused Ebony that he thought by running off quickly that he would be rid of her. No, she would keep coming, and she would keep attacking until all the defences fell down and all that was left was a broken man. 

*

"Sam, she's not safe." Sam knew his eyes rolled again, something they did often when Dean said something. 

Sam lent against the wall, crossing his arms behind his head. Yes, Ebony seemed a bit unhinged but that was to be expected so soon after the loss of a loved one. The pain was still too raw for her to comprehend her actions. He knew that others had suffered greater losses and not gone off of their rocker, but Sam didn't allow himself to think about that. "What do you mean 'she's not safe'?" 

"She's ten types of crazy!" Dean frowned, taking time out of his pacing to throw his hands up in the air. 

"She lost someone Dean, remember how that feels?" 

"Yeah, it hurt, but that doesn't give me the excuse of running around slicing up monsters like they're birthday cake!"

"We all cope with grief in different ways Dean." 

"And what? Her's is making a monster shish kabob?"

"You drink." Sam stated, a small smile curling the corner of his lips unintentionally. 

Dean reeled back, eyebrows furrowed at the idiocy of his brother. "Did you just compare torture to drinking?" 

"You're both destroying something," Sam shrugged. 

"Well, what if one day Ebony decided to slice an' dice a random person walking down the street? What then?" 

"We deal with her then, now though, we can't." 

"Why not Sam?" 

"Because someone just died!" 

"And someone else will if she's not put on a leash!" 

"Fine, lets say I think we should deal with her. What do we do?" Sam sat down on a bed, the mattress sinking with his weight. The squeak of the springs made Sam sigh - he just wanted a bed that didn't moan at every movement.

"Kill her." 

"Dean!" Outrage overwhelmed Sam's features, and he laughed lowly, placing his hands in his face. He couldn't believe that it was Dean's plan - it was Dean's plan always. Sam didn't know why he didn't expect anything else. 

Dean halted in his pacing, stalking towards the fridge and opening up the door. He pulled out a beer, innocently speaking up as he popped the top off of his drink. "What?" 

"You can't just kill people! You're not the judge, or the jury, and you are certainly not going to be the executioner. "

Dean's childish smirk fell. "What do you suggest we do then? Because it's not like we can get someone to look after her: I don't trust her enough, she'd probably make a three course meal out of them."

Sam didn't even bother defending Ebony by snapping at Dean that she wasn't a cannibal. He was quiet for a moment, his face deep in thought. He didn't want to risk the lives of other people, and they really did need to keep her under control, so what could they do? She had admitted to torturing that werewolf, and those flashes of anger he saw on her face couldn't abandon his mind. 

"We take her to the bunker." 

Dean spat out his beer. The liquid spewed over the floor like a fountain, and if the situation had been different, Sam would've laughed about it for hours.  

"Say what now? Repeat yourself, because I don't think you're stupid enough to suggest we take her to the bunker."

"It's not as stupid as it sounds Dean. It's safe, there's only one key, and the only person who can get in is Cas." 

"But it's the bunker." 

"And?" Sam rose a single eyebrow.

"We sleep there! I don't want to keep one eye open," Dean began to pace again, a nervous habit of his. By the time they left the motel, Sam wouldn't be surprised to see a tread in the floor. 

"We already do. It's worth a shot, and if it doesn't work out, well, then we go with your plan." 

The oldest Winchester looked dubious. Conflict flashed through his apple green eyes, followed by the rooms area being covered twice. His pace was getting quicker, and it began to make Sam nervous too. Thud, thud, thud. His footfalls echoed his decision, the changes of his mind and the struggles he was facing mentally. Should he let the girl who was proven 'cray cray' into one of the places he considered home - beside the Impala? It could be putting all of their lives on the line, all for one raven haired girl. 

"Fine," Dean huffed, tossing his hands in the air. "But if she makes a move on any of us, steps too close to a knife, she's dead quicker than you can say Bob's your uncle."

Sam agreed, having full faith in the idea that Ebony had made a mistake, had been grouchy, and was actually a really nice girl who he one day wouldn't mind being in the same room with. He hoped that it worked out, because she's made what looks like a lot of mistakes, and if she's dismissed from society for just being misunderstood what hope did Sam have? He's done far worse than chop a monster up, he's actually released the darkness, so if she's lost with only a few slip ups in her path what would be of him? 

Of course, he didn't know about the thoughts that flew through Ebony's head everyday. He didn't know about the dreams drenched in blood, yet instead of waking up screaming and horrified, she would wake up in a giddy delight. In those dreams it was always the Winchesters pouring their life onto the floor, onto her hands, onto her clothes, and she enjoyed it. That's what kept her going, what kept her to act in front of the brothers, because she would have revenge for her friend.  

She was having one of those dreams, or as some people would call them, nightmares, when someone knocked on the door of her room. She had no idea who would be wanting her at this hour, considering the sun was peeping at the world, ready to see if the people were ready to play. She also wondered how they had found her, since the tacky 60's themed room had long gone past it's prime, much like the rest of the motel, and was hard to find. Ebony furrowed her eyebrows, trying to recall if she ever used a credit card, or was caught on camera one too many times: nothing came to mind. 

Still, no matter how they found her or who they were, she wasn't happy about them waking her up from her slumber. Her position in bed had been just right, she was warm and snuggly, and it once again took her a second to realise. Celeste was dead. 

Her body immediately lost all of it's heat, leaving the sad girl freezing under a mountain of blankets. Not only did she have a bone to pick with them about waking her up, but she would jab at them for reminding her. Night was the rare time she could forget, being too swamped in red dreams to remember or even picture the girl who's hair was the colour of blood.

Groaning, she switched on the bedside lamp. The sudden light burnt her retinas, blinding her as she stumbled out of bed and bumped into a wall head first. Thump. A small ache answered, making her sigh deeply. What a great way to start the day. 

Squinting and rubbing the raised bump on her head, she staggered to the door, fumbled with the lock, and finally, got the door open. On the other side, the Winchesters. 

"I was not expecting that," Dean muttered, eyes wide. 

"What?" 

"You don't sleep in baby skin? You seemed the type." 

"Oh, I only wear them on Tuesdays. They're a nightmare to wash." Ebony couldn't find the energy to give a sarcastic eye roll, only continued to rub her throbbing forehead. "Come on in lads." She turned her back to the door, wearily prodding her head and walking to the mini kitchen, hoping to God that all the tea hadn't been used. 

With her back to them, Dean shot a look at Sam, mouthing 'is she being serious?' Sam only shrugged, replying with a silent 'I hope not.' 

"Do any of you want a cup of Joe?" 

"No thanks," Dean refused for them both, terrified of getting poisoned. 

"Suit yourself, I didn't want to really waste any on you dicks anyway." She boiled the kettle, not turning around when Dean picked up a photo placed gently on the bedside. On it, there was a young girl, around thirteen or twelve, lifting a square faced cat up to the camera. The cat didn't look happy about it, but the girls toothy smile was infectious, and soon Dean found a small lift of the lips creep onto his face. 

"That's my little sister, Ruby. She loved that evil cat more than anything," Ebony placed her steaming mug of Earl Grey on the table, prying the picture out of Dean's hands. "Shame the cat died."  She heaved a big breath, "After the cat went to Pet Heaven, which is where we told her he went, Ruby never really was happy again." 

"What happened to her?" 

Ebony licked her lips, and cleared her throat. It seemed like a good way to get them to trust her. "She lives with a distant relative in Arizona. We had someone erase her memories so she wouldn't be part of the life, before my parents were killed. Ruby had a small encounter with a vampire that left her... questioning things, especially when mommy ran in and chopped its head off." 

The boys were silent, awed at her casualness of her voice. She had long ago become accustomed to the idea that her little sister wouldn't know what it's like having an older sibling, and that Ruby may have felt as though she wasn't wanted, which is the exact opposite. 

"I don't think I'd be able to do that." Sam shook his head, admiring her strength. 

Ebony couldn't hide her shock, folding her arms self consciously. The thin material of her pj shirt didn't leave much to the imagination. She had already caught Dean's gaze raking up her legs appreciatively. "Really? Even if it saved your brother?" 

"I'd find another way to save him."

"There's not always another way, sometimes there is only one option, and that option could save someone else but destroy you."

"If I had too, then yes. No matter how much it would tear me apart, eat at me every day, I would protect him by doing that, because we can only die so many times before we can't come back."

Dean coughed, inputting his thoughts on the topic at hand. His disapproving tone revealed that he wasn't exactly thrilled at hearing Sam's answer. "So nice that you would steal my memories from me Sammy, without my consent." 

"For your safety, I wouldn't think twice Dean." 

"I don't need protecting." 

"Yes, you -" 

"Okay," Ebony by this point had had enough. "here's a house rule: hissy fits are forbidden before ten AM, because my patience is very thin in the morning, and I am not afraid to reserve a place for my fist on your face. So, you have three seconds to tell me why you came interrupting my beauty sleep otherwise you both are leaving this room without balls. Go." 

"Three seconds? I've had longer relationships, and that says some-" 

"One." 

"Um, this is too much pressure -"

"Two." 

"Oh God, Sam say it!"

"Three." Ebony grabbed their elbows, dragging them out. 

"Wait!" She ignored Sams plea and kept pulling them, throwing them out of the room and slamming the door. The minute the door thudded shut she slumped against it, a small tear leaking out of her eye. She couldn't handle having her friends murderers in the same space as her: it constantly reminded her of the person she lost. She slid down the door, bringing her knees up to her chest. Why did they have to wake her up? Why did they have to poke around her things? Why did they have to breathe?  

On the other side of the door, two brothers looked at the door in disbelief. 

"Did she-?"

"Yep, she did." Sam answered Deans question straight away, knowing what he was going to say. 

"Well Sammy, we tried." Clapping Sams shoulder, Dean began the walk back to their motel room, where hopefully they'd pack up and leave this problem behind. Dean was secretly glad that they didn't take her to the bunker - he was still wary of her. 

Sam wasn't happy about leaving her behind, but he was defeated. He was tired of having to persist, to fight to have something happen, all he wanted was for something to fall into place easily. Of course, he knew that if something was easy then something was amiss; it didn't hurt to dream. 

Smash. A violent sound broke the silence. Sam spun around - he had started to go back - and thinking she was being attacked, he thrust his shoulder against the door. Dean from up ahead noticed Sams absence, and cocked his head when he saw his giant of a brother tossing himself at a door. 

"What the holy hell are you on?" 

"I heard a smash," Sam panted, silently urging for him to help. Reluctantly, Dean trudged back to the room, kicking the door down in a single kick. 

"Wimp."

Taking out his gun from his waistband, Sam proceeded to walk in, prepared to shoot down any intruder. Instead of finding a demon or a burglar, he saw Ebony, glaring at a brown stain on the wall, the floor nearby sprinkled with cracked ceramics. 

"I, uh, dropped my tea." Her eyes refused to meet his, and she started picking up the pieces gently. 

Sam lent down to help, cautiously picking up the broken cup. "Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead," she sighed, visibly exhausted. 

"Come with us." Dean rolled his eyes. He honestly thought he had gotten himself out of that situation. 

"What?" She paused in cleaning up, eyes burning into theirs. 

"Live with us, we know a place that's safe, and you wouldn't need to pay anything."

"Why would you do this?" She let a small smile form on her lips, forcing herself to gaze in awe at the younger brother. Ebony never thought they'd be so stupid to let her into their home, and put the mission in motion.

"What, don't believe in good old generosity?" 

"No, I believe in traditional misleading intentions." 

"We swear, we're doing this out of the kindness of our hearts." Ebony had to pop the bubble of laughter that was rising in her throat. The Winchesters, having hearts? She hadn't heard a joke that good in a long time. 

"Fine," she huffed. 

"Really?" Both Winchesters raised their eyebrows, shock evident on their faces. 

"Don't think it's because I like you. I have no money, so I'm just doing this for the free hotel."

Sam was glad that she agreed: he wanted to keep an eye on her, because he knew with certainty that the tea didn't just drop accidentally.