Keeping Ruby in the dark about her reasons doesn't keep Bela from suffering when they resurface. She's just some measly human, after all. Hell's cat-burglar. Crowley's errand girl. Some favored toy of Lilith herself. That's plenty of responsibility, and with all the miles she logs on her Mercedes… a girl needs to sleep at some point.

And when she does, the motel rooms and her flat in Queens and her backseat all melt away into irrelevance. Every floor becomes the hardwood of her father's house. All the windows draw their shades, even when they don't have any. Regardless of where she lays her head, Bela always finds herself back in that room — hears his footsteps bang up the corridor and the bedroom door slam shut — His whiskey-heavy breath crashes into her, the stench crawls down her throat before he jerks her up from the bed, forces his lips on hers — That's when she chokes on the taste — He shoves her down.

She hits the mattress, knows better than to try and run, or argue, but when he covers her, her lungs seize up. Like poison, he caresses her cheek. Her heart pounds as his fingers clench around her wrists. Instinct takes over. She struggles. She tries to move her arms, but he has her pinned. She tries to scream. She tries to call out for someone, or even just ask Daddy, what are you doing like she did the first time, but she can't drag a sound from her throat. Just a hack here, a splutter there, and he senses what she's set her mind on doing, the rebellious frost congealing in her chest.

He lets one of her arms go, seizes her jaw instead, grips it so tightly, he could dent her bones. She wonders, briefly, if it's possible to do that — and for allowing herself to fall out of his reality, he bites her lower lip. Hard. Kisses her as a hyena going at a corpse. She tries to kick him. He only laughs. His fingers trail down her neck as he calls her slut, and tramp, and says she can tell whoever she wants about this, about every time he's violated her, don't go expecting him to stop her.

"Doesn't matter if you do or not," he whispers, nuzzling against her ear, pinning her to the headboard with his shoulders, his hips. "No one's going to believe a word that comes out of your whore mouth, Abby darling. Not a single one of them. Because they know that you're just asking for it, don't you know? Now settle down and be a good girl for Daddy."

The nightmares dog her night in and night out, and she always wakes up alone, drenched in a cold sweat and too terrified to move, like maybe he'll get out of Hell and find her, lurk in her shadows until he sees an opportunity to strike… Until one night, when she doesn't wake up alone anymore.

Until one night when she wakes up to Ruby's arms around her, Ruby's fingers brushing up and down her back or smoothing through her hair, and Ruby's icicle breath whispering some incantation Bela doesn't recognize, whose syllables all sound like sssh, sweetheart, everything will be alright.