Reckless [Dean Winchester]

One Shot - Black Eyes

Black Eyes

I never thought the sun would create such a headache. I guess that's what happens when you've been down in Hell, in darkness, and haven't seen the light of day for...

Wow. I've been in Hell so long that I lost track of time.

How am I topside, you're asking? No, I didn't escape. I got a...pardon, I guess you can say, from the King of Hell himself. Shocking, I know. I was floored when he told me. Since I'd been chained in Hell for so long, I thought it was my mind losing itself even more. It played sick tricks on me before, but giving me the spark of hope for freedom? That would've been the cruelest trick of all.

"What year is it?" I ask. I use my hand as a visor to keep the sun out of my eyes.

"Only twenty-fourteen," says Crowley. "You've been cooped up a year if you're trying to work the math out."

I rub my forehead. "Hell time moves much faster."

"That it does."

A few humans walk past us; they must've been eavesdropping. I flash them my black demon eyes, and they scurry. Oh, yeah, that's the other thing: since I've spent so much time in Hell, being tortured and whatnot, I've become a demon. Not as powerful as Crowley or Abaddon, but stronger than your strongest human.

At some point, I broke. I don't remember how long ago it was. It was a fact of life that I stopped fighting after some time. There's only so much denial one person can take before they get sick of it.

"So, why'd you let me out?" I cast a side glance at Crowley. "It's not out of the kindness of your non-existent heart."

"Sharp as ever, Maxie. You're with me so I can show you."

I watch him curiously as he crosses the street. Feeling obligated, I follow behind him into the bar. I almost gag at the smell. Booze, rotten food, vomit--yup, this is a bar all right. This rivals the rotting flesh in Hell smell that I can't seem to get out of my nose.

"I'm your bodyguard?" I ask in disdain. "I think I prefer my cozy cell downstairs."

Crowley chuckles. "You really don't miss this? The ambiance?"

"Not particularly. Guess that's what happens when your soul gets mangled into bits and pieces."

"Oh, hush it. Instead of bitching, how about you enjoy your fresh air, eh?"

"What's this all about?" I repeat. "Am I your hitman or something?"

"Oh, you could be a lot of things to me, Maxie. Believe me. Fortunately, for you, you're just a babysitter. I need you to keep someone in line for me."

"Can't bother to do it yourself?" I snort.

Crowley frowns. "It doesn't seem like I'm the demon for the job. That's why I brought you out."

"Are you sure this isn't just a façade? I'm still in Hell, aren't I?"

Crowley sighs in annoyance. "Bloody hell, now I remember why I never visited you. You're such a nag."

I lick my lips in aggravation. "You're the one who let me out. And it's not smart to provoke me."

"Darling, you won't do anything. I'll be checking in." He puts a disposable cell phone into my hand. "You muck this up, it's back downstairs for you, love."

I roll my eyes. I'm not gonna take his threat too seriously. I'm not afraid of him like I used to be. Hell has made me tougher, way tougher.

When I look again, Crowley has disappeared. Pompous British ass. I ruffle my blonde hair that's not matted and caked in blood and guts. I'm sure I look more than appealing. Lethally attractive. I definitely feel like it right now.