Chapter Text
"Don't. Don't touch me." She barks.
Bela Talbot was cold. Cruel. Ruthless. But here? Here she was, curled up into herself, eyes glassy despite her attitude.
Pathetic. Weak. Vulnerable.
"Oh, sweetheart, don't pretend you didn't miss me." Dean shot back, circling in on Bela.
Hell was a wretched place. Screams could be heard all around them. Yelling, crying, begging.
Bela had found herself a "safe" spot -- as if anywhere in Hell could be considered safe. A small corner against the crumbling walls of a broken, brick building.
Dean takes another step closer. Bela's emerald eyes shimmer in the light.
"I- I said-" She begins, taking a shuttering breath.
"-You said? Hm? You said what, exactly? 'Oh, don't touch me, Dean! I know I was a bitch back up there, but please just leave me alone!'" Dean cuts in, his tone dripping with mockery.
Dean steps closer, staring her down.
"You deserved every last slash those dogs carved onto your skin. You belong here, in the pit."
Bela's breath shutters.
With a smirk, Dean snidely adds, "Pathetic. You are so fucking pathetic. Up there? You were an egotistical, manipulative, pain in the ass. But down here? You're just a sad little girl crying over the damage she's done. I bet daddy would've loved to see you now, hm? All sad and pathetic; weeping like a lost puppy. God, get a grip, Talbot."
Bela's eyes wander away from Dean, staring down at her lap, refusing to make any means of eye contact. Dean takes a direct step forward, leaning down to her level.
"What? Cat got your tongue? Or should I say 'Hell Hounds'?" Dean taunted.
"Fuck off, Dean," Bela manages, albeit her voice is trembling, and her hands are shaking ever-so-slightly.
"Ooh, ouch! What a mean comeback, Talbot." Dean replies, still wearing that derisive smirk.
"You heard me. Fuck off, Dean. I'm not buying whatever you're selling." Bela mumbles, her eyes lifting just slightly.
"Oh, there's that attitude I missed!" Dean begins, leaning even closer to her, "But, I'm afraid I'm not 'selling' anything. I'm just here to have a little...fun. Y'know?"
"N-no, I don't know, Dean..." Bela half-whispers, swallowing. Her eyes dart back down to her lap when he leans closer.
"Well, I simply mean that you are already 'down in the dumps' - Hah! Get it? - Anyways, you're already acting all pathetic and sulky, why not... Spice things up a bit? A little bit of torture never made anyone scream Bloody Mary." Dean snarls.
Bela sits up at the mention of "torture". She pushes herself impossibly closer to the wall behind her, her eyes darting up to stare directly at Dean.
"No, please, Dean, I-" She begins.
Dean cuts her off, mockingly saying, "You'll what? Do anything? We're past this whole 'begging' thing, Talbot. You are now my little...plaything, okay? Okay."
Bela's breathing picks up pace, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
Dean moves towards her, smiling devilishly.