Violet and Deanna

Deanna

Deanna was beginning to regret offering that poor lost cop an opportunity to make the world a better place. She had felt bad that he had lost his job because of them, especially because she knew exactly who he was. Teddy Jones, the infamously awful cop, who was just trying to do his job while getting crushed by his father's shadow. She knew how he felt. The Winchesters were legendary among hunters, and she felt the weight of being related to them every time their mother had introduced them as Winchesters. How many times had she wished to be a Smith like her mother? She felt bad, she had watched his brown eyes grow impossibly wide when Violet had threatened to carve out his throat, and she had caved. Obviously a mistake, she thought, as Violet kicked her for the fifth time this hour. She hated sharing a bed with Violet. Violet kicked in her sleep, and Deanna stole all the covers. It was terrible for both of them. She vaulted off the bed and away from Violet's flailing feet.

"What is it?" Violet asked. Deanna sighed. Being a hunter meant being an incredibly light sleeper, which meant you couldn't steal away in the middle of the night.

"You're a terrible bed mate," Deanna whispered to Violet. In the dark, Violet's teeth let off a white gleam.

"Not worse than Copper. Have you seen him lately?" she asked. Deanna glanced over. Jones was spread eagle across the entirety of the bed, his feet hanging off the ends. Deanna grinned.

"Dean, why are you taking him with us tomorrow?" Violet suddenly asked, and Deanna sighed.

"I felt bad for him. Don't you remember who he is? Who his dad is?" Deanna asked Violet. Jones let out a light snore and mumbled something.

"Oh great, he talks in his sleep. Yeah. I remember hearing somebody say what a terrible cop he was. How he was too nice." Violet sat up and glared at Deanna in the darkness.

"You knew he was a sweetie and you're still offering him this terrible life. He's too nice. Hunting will wreck him," Violet whispered. Deanna sighed.

"I think it will be good for him. He's got the skills for it, and he'll be helping humanity. Like he wants," Deanna said. Violet shrugged.

"Maybe," she whispered. Jones mumbled something again. Deanna climbed back into the bed and they sat there in silence until the sun started to hike its way up the sky. As soon as the first finger of light crept through the window, Jones jerked awake. He sat up.

"I hope you have something dark to wear," Violet told him. She was wearing a dark shirt and dark pants, a rather muted outfit. He rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"Good. You're about to get blood everywhere," Deanna told him. She shrugged on her leather jacket and tossed a knife to Violet.

"Put your hair up, Dean," Violet reminded Deanna. Deanna pulled her golden hair into a ponytail with a shudder. The last time they had fought vamps her hair had been down and she had spent forever washing all the blood out of her hair. It wasn't something she planned o experiencing again. Violet's hair was already secured in a tight ponytail atop her head.

"Hey, Copper, you want a gun?" Violet asked. Jones' eyes lit up and he held out his hands for Violet to set the gun in his palms.

"Bullets only slow them down, so I'd stick with the machete," Deanna told him and he nodded, and stowed away his gun. Violet gathered up the rest of the belongings strewn across the room and tossed the car keys to Deanna. She looked at Jones.

"You're ok with ditching your car here?" she asked. He nodded slowly.

"I got everything from it last night," he said, and they started towards the door. Almost immediately, Jones' hands were on their necks, shoving them down into the thick bushes beside the front door.