Wanted Dead or Alive | 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑

17 - FALLING

SEASON 1, EPISODE 22

Mara was the crystalline image of death.

As she lay, her body trapped in tangles of spray-painted, criss-crossed lines, her porcelain skin began to sag more with each passing minute. Her collarbone protruded from her chest, shaking with each shallow breath she took. Her comatose state was replacing her striking beauty with something that demanded sorrow - a sickness that begged for sympathy and an illness that stole the life from her very figure. And with every ounce of strength that was seeping through the pores of her skin, a sliver of monstrosity crept in. She had as much contact with humanity as a dead person could. The only beam of human essence she could feel was the one inside her, and even that was beginning to fade, as she was no longer connected to the item that had placed it there.

The Winchesters had forsaken her. But it was what she deserved, after she sided with the warriors of hell. Though it was not voluntary on her behalf, when it came to matters of family, involuntary deeds meant just as much.

Stripes of bright, white light ricocheted against Mara's eyes. She blinked. One, two, three times, until her eyes began to focus and the light was replaced with a hazy silhouette of a girl. The girl had a rock in her hand, and she was scratching at the floor near Mara's head. A lock of dark hair fell from behind her ear, her curls bouncing as her shoulders moved furiously in cooperation with her hand, and Mara's eyes widened. She recognized the girl with the rock.

"Katarina," Mara breathed. "Kat. What are you-"

She slid her elbows beneath her and pushed up, but the dizziness that washed over her was too much. She collapsed, her golden, tangled hair fanning out around her fallen head.

"Dean didn't mean it," Kat muttered, the rock in her hand fervently scraping away the lines of the reaper's trap. "He didn't know a trap would do that to you. He didn't know it would put you in a coma, he just thought it would keep you still. Sort of like a demon's trap."

A rush of wind escaped Kat's lips as she blew at the flakes of paint she'd just scraped. She leaned back on her folded legs, and Mara tried to read her face - to see why she was helping her, why she was going against her brother's orders and releasing her from the trap - but her vision was still too blurry. She could hardly decipher between the eyelashes on Kat's face and the eyes that rested beneath them, much less figure out what the girl was thinking.

Kat reached a hand out towards Mara. "Come on. We have to hurry before Bobby comes back, and Sam and Dean are gonna get suspicious if I don't get out there soon."

Mara placed her hand in Kat's. With a tug, Kat helped Mara rise to her stumbling feet, and Mara grimaced at the pounding in her skull. It was like a symphony of drums were beating staccatos into the linings of her brain, crashing cymbals and tambourines against her temples in hopes of creating a steady beat. Unfortunately for the reaper, it was a rhythm that caused her to recoil in pain.