Drabbletag 5 - Supernatural, Anna/Bela, Second Chances
Title: Second Chances
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Anna/Bela
Rating: PG
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Anna/Bela, rescue
Word count: 250
Summary: Bela, raised from Hell and just as cynical as ever. AU.
It happens quickly. One moment, there's only pain and darkness. The next, vertigo, rushing wind, and then she's elsewhere, she's out.
Clean air. Dirt beneath her palms, lungs expanding, eyes shut against an onslaught of light. When she opens them, there's a woman standing over her, the shadow of wings there and gone. She touches her wrist, and there's a handprint seared there, deep into the skin.
"You're safe now," the woman says, or maybe saved. Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter. Bela knows what she's looking at, and she knows not to trust it.
"Salvation?" She feels her lips twist, bitter. "I've heard that one before. What's it going to cost me?"
"Nothing," the woman - the angel - says, and Bela laughs, high and hollow, laughs until it hurts. She feels hands on her shoulders, holding her upright, and she ought to recoil, fighting, but she can't make herself pull away. Can't make herself want to.
"No cost, I promise," the angel says, almost wryly. "This isn't the first time I've gone against the will of heaven."
"Then you're - "
"As fallen as you." She starts to stand, but Bela catches her wrist, pulls her back, not yet steady but good enough to fake it.
"You're a liar, too, but I don't care," Bela says, and means it. And when she reaches up to trace the contour of the angel's face, smiling sweet and dangerous, she means that too. "We'll make a good team, you and I."
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Anna/Bela
Rating: PG
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Anna/Bela, rescue
Word count: 250
Summary: Bela, raised from Hell and just as cynical as ever. AU.
It happens quickly. One moment, there's only pain and darkness. The next, vertigo, rushing wind, and then she's elsewhere, she's out.
Clean air. Dirt beneath her palms, lungs expanding, eyes shut against an onslaught of light. When she opens them, there's a woman standing over her, the shadow of wings there and gone. She touches her wrist, and there's a handprint seared there, deep into the skin.
"You're safe now," the woman says, or maybe saved. Doesn't matter. Doesn't matter. Bela knows what she's looking at, and she knows not to trust it.
"Salvation?" She feels her lips twist, bitter. "I've heard that one before. What's it going to cost me?"
"Nothing," the woman - the angel - says, and Bela laughs, high and hollow, laughs until it hurts. She feels hands on her shoulders, holding her upright, and she ought to recoil, fighting, but she can't make herself pull away. Can't make herself want to.
"No cost, I promise," the angel says, almost wryly. "This isn't the first time I've gone against the will of heaven."
"Then you're - "
"As fallen as you." She starts to stand, but Bela catches her wrist, pulls her back, not yet steady but good enough to fake it.
"You're a liar, too, but I don't care," Bela says, and means it. And when she reaches up to trace the contour of the angel's face, smiling sweet and dangerous, she means that too. "We'll make a good team, you and I."