The logistics of friendship between an angel and a demon: they meet in the middle.
Supernatural | Ruby & Anna
AU post-4.10 | ~300 words
~this fic exists in a superior reality where Ruby wasn't reduced to a Subordinate Evil Chick Punchline and Anna wasn't reduced to a Fuckin' Terminator~
She’s been burnt by holy fingers, underneath her left breast, flush against her ribs.
(Not this body’s ribs, of course. This body was new and clean and already vacant when Ruby was ripped free from Hell. Delivered, if you wanna get technical.)
Beneath the flesh that is not hers, beneath the artful span of bones, her undulating black carries the remnants of a divine torch. An angel burned her heart, burned her where her heart would be if hundreds of years in the Pit had left a slab of meat capable of housing profound feeling.
(Oh sure, she feels, smoke can feel hot or cold, but it always ghosts through her, flashes of feeling evaporating quicker than she can catch.)
She was all smoke inside, burning black, now burning grey, as that scar of light smites every speck of ash—she’s a demon burning white.
(Just another way to be a freak among the freaks.)
At night, she dreams of white-hot supernovas and wakes with sweat on her apple-round cheeks. Listless fingers wipe the moisture from her chin and trace the rope of tendons weaving down her neck. Just meat strapped on smoke. Grotesque, horrifying, nightmare smoke.
(But whose nightmare is it now?)
She’d give anything to look into a mirror and see her true face, see past the searing white irises and the semblance of humanity to test the sinking sensation that’s been haunting her dreams: that the smoke’s no longer smoke, but porcelain hardening beneath her skin.
(Are you happy now, Anna? Am I supposed to say 'thank you'?)
The answer whispers through her:
Yes. You're welcome.