The bar went quiet, the music that played coming to an abrupt halt.

Dean's glare hardened as he lifted a steady hand to pry away Mary's grip. Though, it only resulted in the tilt of her head, her blackened eyes studying him.

She wanted him to try her. Cross that line so she could lash out and be done with her rising anger. Be done with the memories of Wavington and it's people. The town of vampires, and the town who'd taken her in despite the obvious.

Weakness.

A hiss resonated from her right, and turning her head towards the sound she came face to face with an angry red eyed blonde; who hissed again, baring a set of thin fangs as she took a step near.

Mary's eyes wandered from the lady, taking in the sight of everyone staring at her and Dean. Their faces twisted in glares, fangs bared with intent.

"I don't have any reason to kill vampires," she mumbled, unfazed by the clear warning as a toothy grin slithered across her lips. She met Dean's gaze again with joyful promise. "But I will."

"Wait!" His hand immediately shot up from her wrist, and hurriedly, he signaled for the woman to stand back. The vamp gave a hard frown, but without a word, obliged.

"I just want to talk," he urged, "No funny shit, I swear."

At his compliance Mary's grin fell. Her eye twitched as he held her stare, the clear indication of truthfulness written within his crimson eyes.

His resemblance to Aidan was awkward. Seemingly not for Dean, but entirely for her.

And it pissed her off.

He made no move when she leaned her face to his neck, sniffing in deeply. She clicked her tongue, her nose scrunching with distaste; it didn't smell like a lie, a musky and sour scent, and the look on his face didn't waver.

"I'll kill them," she whispered in warning, but reluctantly let him go after he gave a short nod. She slumped onto a stool while Dean rubbed his face.

He took a step back, the action putting Mary on edge, though she relaxed when he dismissively waved a hand at the staring vamps. The music sprung back to life, the bar gaining it's calming atmosphere again.

Dean nudged his head towards the door behind the bar, and giving a heavy sigh Mary stood on top of her stool, walking over the polished wood separating them. She dropped down to the other side before following him through the door. Her arms folded tightly across her chest, and quickly, she took in the interior of the kitchen they entered.

Stainless steel tables made up the majority of the space; two of them sat in the center of the room, another three lining the back wall with built in sinks. A two section stainless steel refrigerator stood against the right wall, a wooden door along the left, and despite the strong stench of blood, the ceramic flooring, a dark grey, looked spotless.

"You know, if I came off aggressive in any way back there–" Dean paused, as if thinking, before leaning against one of the center tables. "Then I apologize. It wasn't my intention."

Mary immediately scoffed.

It wasn't any surprise he was apologizing even though she had been the only aggressor. It was typical Dean. Typically weak and full of unwanted pity.

"You haven't changed one bit," she snickered.

"Well, you have."

An unwelcoming smile curled her lips, and with that, came the darkening of her eyes once again. "I've learned," she corrected him. "I've grew."

He gave a sigh, his expression gloomy. "I just want to know what happened."

"Why?" She demanded with the tilt of her head. "Why are you so god damn eager?"

"You spent almost six months here! The whole town fucking cares about you!" His anger visibly peaked, but unbothered, Mary could only chuckle.

"You don't know me."

"I know that–"

"You. Don't. Know. Me," she repeated, more forceful this time.

Her eyes narrowed as he frowned at her, and it was only when she had to tilt her head back to look up at him did she notice she'd stepped closer. "You knew me," she continued lowly. "The person you see now? You don't know her."

Mary's words weren't fully true and that simple fact troubled her. Dean had been the one to convince the town to let her stay after the incident, and so despite her best wishes, she couldn't naturally be angry with him.

After all, he was the one to bring up the idea of freedom.

They frowned at each other for what seemed like forever. Dean's face softened the longer their eyes held, and annoyed, Mary stepped back. Stop staring at me like that, she mentally tried to will his gaze from hers, but to no avail. He had the annoying trait of staring, something he seemed to do a lot with her. She didn't know how she had tolerated it the time they'd spent together. Now, his gaze only felt like a burning reminder.

Does he remind you of me?

A jolt of pain split through her skull as though she'd just gotten cracked upside her head by a rock. Her body lurched slightly, her eyes narrowing when her vision unfocused. The pang left behind a stinging burn, and the only way it seemed she could lessen the ache was by pressing her hands over her ears. The room buzzed until it was almost suffocating, her throat tightening and Dean's face repeatedly glitching into two as it had done before.

It was happening again.

"Mary," Dean's cautious gaze met her dilated one, and uncertain, he began to step towards her. "I don't know what's happened to you in the last two years, but I can tell something is seriously wrong."

"Stop," she sneered, her hands shooting from her ears to clench defensively. Her fists jerked towards him, eager, but she froze when a stream of voices began to attack her now unprotected ears.

It's not like I want to do this Mary, you know I love you. You must understand our bloodline has no room for weakness.

I've done all I could.

You're not even ashamed? He's a human.

This'll be better for the family.

We'll handle it ourselves if we have to, Mary. Don't force my hand.

Something cold fell onto the tip of her nose. Mary looked up timidly, taking in the snowy sky. Frosty air brushed against her bare arms, causing goosebumps to prickle up her skin. She breathed a sigh, her chilly breath puffing around her face and her eyes blinking away snowfall.

It's cold, her conscience whispered.

Don't worry, She looked towards the voice, and a familiar pair of emerald eyes greeted her confidently, I may not be as strong as you, but I won't let them split us apart.

"Mary!" She blinked, and Dean's troubled face lowered into her field of view. "Can you hear me?"

He shook her gently by her shoulders, and Mary immediately pushed his hands away. "Don't touch me!"

She looked around the room, her heart hammering against her chest while the bar's kitchen greeted her mockingly. The weak feeling she had been trying to out run crept from her toes and up her legs, before it took to her entire body like a lingering disease.

Mary, brea-

Dean's unwavering gaze was obvious, but she chose to avoid it as she took a step away from him. The air stopped it's assault on her throat, but regardless her head still hurt with pounding alertness. She shackled her mind back up and took a deep breath, before sending Dean an annoyed glare.

"I'll leave before sunset," she announced and upon hearing her words his eyebrows shot up in question.

"So soon?" he asked. "You just got here."

"Beffly will follow me wherever I set foot," she retorted, her glare hardening. "Despite who I am now, I don't wish to hurt the people who did me right."

Dean frowned. "The town won't let them lay a finger on you," he challenged.

Mary shook her head and heaved a sigh. Had he always been this stubborn?

She held his stare for maybe a few seconds too long, but with the wave of her hand she shook her head again. "No," she answered firmly.

"The wolves took from me too, Mary. Let us protect you— let me protect you, let me understand you. Stay." His declaration irked her. A vampire so willing to ruin his reputation for a werewolf who would never be able to reciprocate his obvious feelings. How tragic.

She opened her mouth to tell him off, but the sound of the main bar door being slammed open halted her. The hairs on the back of her neck painfully rose, and slowly turning her head towards the kitchen door, she zeroed in on the familiar voice ordering her name.

"Stay here!" Dean demanded as he whizzed past her and out the door, sudden sounds of commotion ringing through the building.

He sounds familiar doesn't he?

She nodded unconsciously at her mate's voice, her gaze never leaving the door as yells roared, crashing tables and glass springing to life.

Go.

Her body immediately pushed forward through the door. A fog took to her head, squeezing her brain until she let out the breath she didn't know she had been holding in.

And there he stood, in all his glory, holding Dean by the neck. Blonde and tall, baring Deffly's crest along his right arm, and his once soft and calm face now hard with anger.

Clint.