Rogue Standing

Two

The bar went quiet, the music that played coming to an abrupt halt.

Dean's glare hardened as he lifted a steady hand to pry away Mary's grip. Though, it only resulted in the tilt of her head, her blackened eyes studying him.

She wanted him to try her. Cross that line so she could lash out and be done with her rising anger. Be done with the memories of Wavington and it's people. The town of vampires, and the town who'd taken her in despite the obvious.

Weakness.

A hiss resonated from her right, and turning her head towards the sound she came face to face with an angry red eyed blonde; who hissed again, baring a set of thin fangs as she took a step near.

Mary's eyes wandered from the lady, taking in the sight of everyone staring at her and Dean. Their faces twisted in glares, fangs bared with intent.

"I don't have any reason to kill vampires," she mumbled, unfazed by the clear warning as a toothy grin slithered across her lips. She met Dean's gaze again with joyful promise. "But I will."

"Wait!" His hand immediately shot up from her wrist, and hurriedly, he signaled for the woman to stand back. The vamp gave a hard frown, but without a word, obliged.

"I just want to talk," he urged, "No funny shit, I swear."

At his compliance Mary's grin fell. Her eye twitched as he held her stare, the clear indication of truthfulness written within his crimson eyes.

His resemblance to Aidan was awkward. Seemingly not for Dean, but entirely for her.

And it pissed her off.

He made no move when she leaned her face to his neck, sniffing in deeply. She clicked her tongue, her nose scrunching with distaste; it didn't smell like a lie, a musky and sour scent, and the look on his face didn't waver.

"I'll kill them," she whispered in warning, but reluctantly let him go after he gave a short nod. She slumped onto a stool while Dean rubbed his face.

He took a step back, the action putting Mary on edge, though she relaxed when he dismissively waved a hand at the staring vamps. The music sprung back to life, the bar gaining it's calming atmosphere again.

Dean nudged his head towards the door behind the bar, and giving a heavy sigh Mary stood on top of her stool, walking over the polished wood separating them. She dropped down to the other side before following him through the door. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, and quickly, she took in the interior of the kitchen they entered.

Stainless steel tables made up the majority of the space; two of them sat in the center of the room, another three lining the back wall with built in sinks. A two section stainless steel refrigerator stood against the right wall, a wooden door along the left, and despite the strong stench of blood, the ceramic flooring, a dark grey, looked spotless.

"You know, if I came off aggressive in any way back there–" Dean paused, as if thinking, before leaning against one of the center tables. "Then I apologize. It wasn't my intention."

Mary immediately scoffed.

It wasn't any surprise he was apologizing even though she had been the only aggressor. It was typical Dean. Typically weak and full of unwanted pity.

"You haven't changed one bit," she snickered.

"Well, you have."

An unwelcoming smile curled her lips, and with that, came the darkening of her eyes once again. "I've learned," she corrected him. "I've grew."