An extremely short one-shot, made for The One Thousand Words Club on Amino. Story based upon Colpire's art.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the following characters, however the plot is mine.
Rating for minor language.
Honestly, I didn't even know I was capable of writing fluffy stories. Well, I guess I learned something new everyday. Volition is on a slight delay, as I'm working on completing a request first. I'll be on a plane all day (if it ever stops getting delayed, we've been delayed twice for two hours now) so I should get some stuff done.
Enjoy!
Mary sits in the driver's seat, the crisp Californian wind cutting through her blades of hair and tossing them back in a frenzy behind her. She releases a joyful laugh as the engine purrs beneath her, almost in which could be taken as a loving way. She loves the coast.
The waters stretch to the horizon and beyond, the setting sun painting the sky various hues of orange and pink. It's a stunning sight, and her eyes twinkle with affection as she observes it. She's out. She's actually out of the hunting life, and is leaving her murderous pastimes behind her—just like the gravel in which is being kicked up by her baby's tires.
John fidgets in his position of shotgun. "Could…" he begins, then pauses for a second as they hit a bump, causing him to grasp onto the handle of the door beside him. "Could you maybe slow down for a bit?" he finishes.
Mary brings her shades to the top of her head, and peers at him. "Why?" she asks, a smug smirk hinting at the corners of her mouth. John looks decently uncomfortable and she sighs, releasing some of the throttle and bringing them to a steady 60.
"Y'know, I'm kind of glad you didn't get that shitty van," she says casually, shrugging her shoulders. "I thought it would fit...but this is much better."
John looks out the open window to the ocean, the sounds of Metallica ringing throughout the car's atmosphere. "It's not going to be much better if you crash her," he responds, frowning.
Mary chuckles, running a hand through her blond hair and ruffling it in the back. "You're no fun," she playfully pouts.
"You didn't think that last ni—"
"Hey!" Mary interrupts, and floors it. The sounds drown out her partner's words, and the two of them laugh ridiculously. She loves this life. No killing, no demons, and no death. She stops her laughing as she remembers what it cost to earn this though, and it grows to a steady silence aside from the radio. John looks at her curiously.
"You okay?" he asks, and Mary wonders how she ended up with such a benevolent fiancé. She's not okay, but she can't tell John that, so she is. He doesn't deserve the life she grew up in.
Flashbacks of the one night that changed everything return, from the yellow eyed demon to her dead parents, all the way to John being murdered right in front of her. She remembers every second of making the deal—of selling her soul. She shudders. Ten years and something will happen. Whether that be being dragged away to the pit or something worse than she could ever imagine, she isn't sure. However, she just might prefer the former.
"I'm fine," she answers, quickly recovering her smile. She checks the meter, and once she hits 90 she slows down. Mary glances back at the sea, as well as the setting sun. Making a decision, she pulls over to the side of the road. Twisting the key out of ignition, she opens the door and walks to the back, grabbing a 6-pack and cracking open a cold one.
She then sits down on the hood, sprawling across it in a relaxing manner. She may not know what will happen in the fast-approaching future, but it doesn't matter. That is not now, and instead, she is going to cherish her perfect life.
She hears John climb onto the black metal beside her, and she turns to her side and looks at him. She thinks for a moment, before asking, "What do you think about having kids?"
The question obviously takes him by surprise, and he blinks once. Twice. Thrice.
"Why?"
She expected that, but nevertheless she is still terrified to answer. "Because…" she trails off. She thinks about the future. 10 years. Taking a deep breath, she releases it slowly in an attempt to calm herself. "Because, I want a family."
John instantly shoots up, surprise written all over his features. But it's not anger, like she expected. Something about his persona is calm and settled, not tense and full of distaste like she feared. She knows the answer before John even speaks.
"Well," he says. "I think kids would be nice."
He smiles, and Mary returns the favor with an even bigger one. She drags herself over to him, and lays her head on his chest while keeping an eye on the ocean. The sun is falling beneath the plain, and she watches intently. Everything is good. Everything is right. For the longest time, she believed she would never escape the world in which was hunting.
Following the Campbell business, she figured she would be doing this until she died, which wasn't that far away. But the Campbells were dead. Her family was dead. As guilty as she felt about that...there was a sense of relief. For the longest time the fire in her heart was slowly dwindling, but now it has regathered itself. Freedom is the fuel, and now it's a raging storm in her soul.
She was free. She is free.
Before she knows it, John is tugging her into a passionate kiss, and she leans into it. She was going to savor this life, and whatever big bad was coming. She would deal with that when they got to it. But for now? She was going to have a family.
The sun sinks past the horizon, and the first lights of the early stars are beginning to sprout from the sky. The moon casts a shallow guidance, and she intends to follow it. She lays back, and closes her eyes.
They sleep there for the night.