Between Heaven and Hell

She let out a sigh, watching as the swirl of smoke trailed behind her breath. Her mother always warned her against cigarettes, but she figured it didn't matter much. Death was always two steps behind her now, and she could never shake the feeling of someone—or something, rather—watching her.

If she had to throw out a guess, maybe, it would be a demon. She'd killed enough of them for someone to be pissed. She'd ran into other beings along the way, too, but there was a silent understanding that passed between them. She wasn't like the other hunters. She didn't attack first and ask questions later, and she didn't kill unless she absolutely had to. Maybe that was why she didn't really get along with any she had come into contact with.

The only friend she'd made, if she could consider her that, was a girl a few years younger than her by the name of Claire Novak. Last Arielle had heard, though, she was up in South Dakota with a group of other girls and Jody Mills. She'd ran into Jody a few years back, long before she realized just who Arielle was, and tried to convince her to stay with her. And Arielle considered it; she'd missed having a place to call home and a family.

But when the brothers showed up, she thought better of it and skipped town.

Sam and Dean Winchester were the reason she was alive and her family was dead. Some people thought she should be thankful to be alive, even if it wasn't necessary a good life. But she didn't see the point when there was no one to share it with. Anyone she ever got closed to managed to die, and she didn't chalk it up to fate. She was being targeted, albeit not for the reasons the brothers and other hunters alike were.

Arielle was different and they wanted to make sure she was accessible. If she was held down by something or someone, the less likely they were to be able to use her when the time came.
She didn't know it, then, but she was one of the reasons separating the world from ending or being saved.

"You called?" Came a voice she had become all too familiar with. He was clad in his usual attire—black pants, a black button-down shirt, black trench coat, wearing the smirk she had become accustomed to. "Miss me that much already, have you, darling?"
Arielle refrained from rolling her eyes as she shrugged her coat on, folding her arms across her chest. "You know where they are, don't you?"

Crowley only scoffed, slipping in his hands in his pockets as he walked toward her. "And even if I did, what makes you think I would tell you? This little suicide mission of yours isn't going to work, Arielle."

She only held her chin up higher, her jaw clenching in annoyance as Crowley moved to brush the hair away from her face. She didn't lean into his touch like she would've even a year ago, keeping her eyes trained on his. "I'm not the same person I was, then. They have the answers, and if you're not willing to help me get them, I don't need you."

"You don't need me?" Crowley asked her incredulously, raising an eyebrow at her. Clearly, she had forgotten just who she was talking to. In an instant, she could be back with him in Hell, serving him for whatever purpose he deemed fit. He made her. He could easily take all of that away; her freedom was a gift. But he knew he'd be doing none of those things. A deal was a deal and as much as he led himself to believe he could care for a human, upholding a deal was the one standard he held himself to. "Kansas. Lebanon, actually. Good luck, then."

She watched as he vanished, the only proof that he was there the bile rising in her throat. She pushed the impending thoughts away and grabbed her keys, slamming the door to the hotel shut behind her as she went, only one thing on her mind.