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Chapter Text

You had a bad feeling about this, but Rowena assured you everything would be alright. She was at full power now. If anything was to happen, she could protect you both. Gone were the days of living in fear of her own shadow; she had all the power and she wasn't afraid to use it. If anyone so much as looked at either of you wrong, her magic would make sure they never do anything of the sort again. 

You decided not to argue and instead went along with what she'd asked. You were no stranger to helping the Winchesters out. The brothers had a tendency to call from time to time and ask for assistance in various magical cases. And who better to call than the most powerful witch in the world? 

You, on the other hand, were just an accessory, a cheap gift that came in the package with the luxury item. The only reason you accompanied Rowena was so you could look after her. Your magic, while getting more powerful each day thanks to your lovely girlfriend's lessons, was nothing in comparison to hers. Even when her power was bound, Rowena was tens of times more powerful than you. Now, she was a deity in comparison to your parlor tricks. Still, you insisted on coming along. Rowena had a tendency to get herself into trouble and you wanted to be there if something was to go wrong – at the very least, to tell her a few comforting words and hold her hand. 

That was all you'd been doing these past few months. Dying for the second time had left Rowena traumatized. It wasn't so much the death as it was the way it happened. Lucifer hadn't simply killed her. He'd blinded her, beaten her, crushed her skull, and set her alight. He hadn't even made sure that she was dead before lighting her on fire. The devil had no mercy. 

Against all odds, Rowena survived. But with her survived the memories. She was scared all the time. Even the smallest things could set off a flashback, things that used to bear no importance to her. You never knew what could trigger her. The best thing you could do was be prepared at all times; prepared to wrap your arms around her, to hold her and rock her like a mother soothing a child, and whisper comforting words into her ear. 

You had no trouble taking care of her. However, you wished that you didn't have to. Rowena had done terrible things, but she didn't deserve to suffer like this. Seeing someone who used to be tough and, at times, heartless so broken was almost unnatural. 

Nightmares were the worst. You never knew when one would hit and how it would affect her. Sometimes she would just scream. Other times she'd kick and punch you. Getting out of bed in the morning with a bruise or two wasn't a novelty to you. Rowena felt guilty, but every time she even looked like she was about to apologize, you would tell her it was fine. You were a big girl. You could handle a slap in the face or a kick to the stomach. What mattered the most was that she was okay. 

Though, she would never be okay again. Or at least for a long while. What Lucifer had done to her would take time to heal. Physical wounds may have been long gone, but those on her soul would follow her for all eternity. She just had to learn to live with them. 

Getting her full magic back helped. It didn't erase her torment, but now she felt more confident. She allowed herself to get out more, even without you by her side. And when Sam and Dean Winchester called asking for help, she was quick to say yes. 

There appeared to be an understanding between her and the brothers. She and Sam had trauma with Lucifer in common. A part of you envied their connection. The hunter would never be as close to her as you were, but the two of them shared something you couldn't even begin to comprehend. And you wanted to, with your entire being. You didn't want to be going through what they had. You just wanted to understand it, so you could help her. Hugs and sweet words could only do so much. If you knew more about what was going on inside her head, you may be able to reach out to her in a way that could actually help her. 

It was Sam who opened the door when Rowena knocked. He smiled at you both and stepped aside to let you in before locking the door behind you. 

"Thank you for coming," he said. 

Surprisingly, his tone was genuine. You were still suspicious of him, thinking back to all those times he'd chained Rowena up, threatened her, screamed in her face, and grabbed her arm in a way that was more threatening than words alone. The hunter had changed since then, the conversation they'd had no doubt impacting him the same way it impacted her. 

Even if he, by some miracle, had less than pure intentions, you doubted you could do much about them. You remained on high alert, but if anything was to happen, the best you could do was glare and plead for Rowena's safety. You weren't a fighter. Your magic was improving, but you still had a long way to go when it came to using it in self-defense. Simple spells, like Abi and Manete, you could do. Anything more complicated, and you would freeze, pictures of everything going wrong swirling around your brain like a taunting hurricane. The perks of low self-esteem. 

"Och, you know me. Always happy to lend a helping hand," Rowena said, pulling on a teasing smile. 

"Right," Sam said, chuckling. 

A few days back, the hunter had been kind enough to call with news of Lucifer's return from the alternate universe. It took you an hour to calm Rowena down and help her get her breathing under control. She'd spent the remainder of the day either crying or sitting in silence and staring at her feet, lost in tormenting memories. The next day she decided to keep on living as if nothing had happened. Before learning of Crowley's sacrifice to trap the devil, Rowena had lived for months believing he was roaming free. She could do it again, this time with her magic unbound. 

"Hi," you said shyly as you cascaded down the stairs, meeting Dean who looked less than happy to see you. Unlike his brother, who'd clearly changed his mind about you and your girlfriend (at least a tiny bit), Dean remained his old self. There was a warning in his glance, a reminder not to try or do anything stupid because he had his eye on you and he wouldn't tolerate any bullshit. You thought he and Rowena had bonded last year when she helped him regain his memories, but you were obviously wrong. The older hunter clearly only tolerated you both because you were useful. One slip and he wouldn't hesitate lodging a witch-killing bullet into your skulls. 

"Hi," he said, flashing you a smile in an attempt to seem friendly. 

Sending the tensions, Rowena said, "Miss me, Winchester?" 

"You know me. Just can't get enough of you," he said, rolling his eyes. 

"I have that effect on people." 

"Before or after you kill them?" 

"Och, you wound me. They always try to kill me first. Besides, I haven't taken a life in ages." 

Dean raised an eyebrow. 

"Like I said, I've changed. I'm a good girl now." 

"Somehow I find that hard to believe." 

She was telling the truth. She had changed. The two of you used your magic for casual mischief, but you hadn't killed anyone in months. There was no point in it anymore. It wasn't fun, it wasn't right, and it left traces of your presence behind. A trail of bodies in your wake could easily lead Lucifer straight to you. You weren't opposed to killing in self-defense or vengeance. Killing for the fun of it was a strict no. 

"Is this the witch?" 

You were startled by an unfamiliar voice. A woman walked to stand beside Dean, a leather-bound book in her hand. She was short and blonde. Her frame was thin, like Rowena's, appearing frail and dainty. But just like it was the case with your girlfriend, you decided not to judge a book by its cover. For all you knew, she could have been even more dangerous. She seemed to be in her mid to late forties, and she carried her age well. The woman had a serious case of resting bitch face, observing Rowena like a hawk eyeing its prey. 

Your instincts screamed for you to be on alert. Sam and Dean were familiars. This woman was a stranger, and you didn't know what to expect from her. 

"Yeah, this is Rowena," Sam said. 

Rowena flashed her fakest sweet smile. "Pleasure, I'm sure." 

The woman scoffed, not buying it. "I've heard stories about you." 

"Always good to be recognized." 

"They weren't nice stories. You've got quite a reputation," the woman said. 

"I certainly hope so! I have been working on it for centuries. I'd hate for all my hard work to go to waste." 

She narrowed her eyes, then eyed Sam and Dean. "This is what you work with?" 

Rowena tensed at being referred to as an object. You held back a deep breath. The two of you hadn't even been here for five minutes, and the brothers' guest had already offended Rowena. You contemplated commenting, but one look at her face told you to stay back. Rowena was a big girl. She could handle some bitch's poor attempts at insults. She'd been through worse. 

"It's not like we have a choice, okay?" Dean said. 

"Right." The woman smiled, and then her eyes landed on you. She eyed you from head to toe, observing your every curve, every detail of your body. Her gaze stopped at your breasts, lips curling into a teasing smirk as you nervously shuffled your feet, before moving up to meet your eyes. "And who is this lovely thing?" 

"Um… I'm Y/N," you said. You would have introduced yourself properly, shaking her hand, but you decided against it. Not only had she been rude to your girlfriend, but the way this woman was looking at you was making you uncomfortable. You didn't want to be anywhere near her. 

"She's my girlfriend," Rowena said. Sensing your discomfort, she moved to stand beside you, resting her elbow up on your shoulder. It was rare to see her act that way, possessive and jealous, but you welcomed it. It gave you something else to focus on instead of the stranger undressing you with her eyes. Unlike hers, Rowena's closeness was welcome. Even before you got to really know her, when you knew her as nothing but a cold, heartless witch bitch with a heart of stone, you weren't afraid of her. Her presence had never made you feel uneasy. 

"Oh?" The woman seemed surprised, but you couldn't tell whether it was genuine or another attempt at teasing. "What's a cute thing like you doing with a wicked witch like her?" 

"I'm afraid your wee brain couldn't handle that information," Rowena said. You were grateful for her interjection. You were never good at confrontation. 

Before the woman could say something else, Sam cleared his throat, sensing the tensions, and said, "Rowena, Y/N, this is Mariah Moore. She's a hunter." 

What a surprise, you thought. With manners and attitude like that, she could hardly be anything else. No supernatural creature who'd heard of Rowena would dare talk to her like that – especially another witch. They knew better than to mess with her. Especially now that she was at full power. 

"I am," Mariah said firmly. "And if I'd known you two'd call witches for help, I wouldn't have bothered calling you." 

"It's not like we like them, either. They're useful," Dean said, tone laced with annoyance. It seemed he didn't like her any better than you and Rowena had. 

"They're murderers!" 

"Oh, and I assume your hands are perfectly clean? Not even a wee drop of blood?" Rowena asked, raising her eyebrows in mock curiosity. 

Mariah glared at her. She ignored her question. "A witch almost killed me once." 

"Och, poppet. That must have been devastating. I can't imagine anyone wanting to kill poor, wee you," Rowena said sarcastically. 

"Let's all just try to get along, okay?" Sam said, attempting to keep the peace. 

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "We don't like each other. That's fine. But people's lives are at stake here. Let's put aside our differences and get this thing over with." 

"Fine," Mariah said. Her glare once again settled on you and Rowena. "I'm keeping an eye on you. Do something even remotely suspicious, and you're dead." 

Rowena laughed at that. Lucifer – an archangel, the devil – couldn't end her for good. Twice. And that was before she unlocked her magic. She could kill this weakly human and do her nails at the same time without breaking a sweat. The woman had no idea what she was getting into. 

You gently elbowed Rowena in the ribs. Just because she could take her didn't mean that she should. There was no point in increasing conflict. The only reason the two of you were here was the promise of a favor by the Winchesters. You doubted they'd feel up to honoring their deal if Rowena were to murder their acquaintance, however annoying she was. 

"Fine, fine." Rowena sighed. "We'll be on our best behavior." 

"Scout's honor," you said. She frowned at you and you shrugged. "What?" 

The five of you settled in the library. Rowena was instantly taken by ancient, beautiful books, looking each over with care and devotion, the same way she looked at you whenever you did something nice for her. Uncomfortable introductions forgotten, she surrounded herself with a stack, sitting down and skimming through each one. She turned the yellowed pages with utmost care as to not damage them. Some were already damaged by age and humidity. She didn't want to make it worse. 

The brothers also busied themselves with books and journals, skimming through pages in search of any information that appeared helpful. From the looks of it, the perpetrator of the latest string of murders was a witch. A powerful one, whose magic was strong enough to erase its traces and leave behind little to no evidence that could be used to identify her. The spells she'd cast were strange; Rowena theorized they were rare and possibly self-made, though she suspected they were patched together from already existing spells. She hadn't come across anything like this before, much to her very obvious frustration, but she had given Sam and Dean pointers to look through spellbooks and all books about magic and witches. 

The book you'd picked up turned out to be a dead end. Sighing, you went to return it back to the shelf and fetch a new one. Disappearing behind one of the large, stacked shelves, you glanced at Rowena. She was deep in reading, old pages earning her full attention. A small smile broke on your lips. It felt good to see her focus on something. It helped keep her mind off memories that haunted her, memories of fire and pain and death that had kept her up at night for months. Your heart fluttered with joy every time you saw her like this. Trying hard to gain information on the wayward witch meant she wasn't thinking about what happened to her, and that was always a good thing. She could use a distraction. 

Mariah eyed you as you put the book back where you'd found it, swapping her own old one for what appeared to be a large encyclopedia bound in leather. Or was it flesh? You shuddered, deciding not to question whether it was human or not. From what Rowena had told you of ancient witches, it most likely was. 

The hunter walked towards you. You kept your eyes glued to the shelf, trying your hardest not to pay her any mind. She'll be gone soon, you reminded yourself. She was just here to get a book. She will pass by you and keep walking, and then you will be alone. Her lips curled into a smirk as she approached you, the glint in her eyes that of a predator. Was she doing this on purpose? Was she making you uncomfortable because she could sense your shyness? Because you were an easy target? 

Had it been Rowena instead of you, she would have looked back. She would have shot the hunter her deadliest glare and painted a matching smile on her lips. She wouldn't turn away. She wouldn't pray not to be noticed. She would stand up for herself and tell the woman to go to hell if she didn't like it. 

You weren't Rowena. 

Throughout years of knowing her, parts of her attitude had rubbed off on you, but not nearly enough to allow you to stand your ground in the face of danger. At times you wondered what Rowena was doing with a person like you. You loved her with all your heart. You showered her with affection every single day. You'd shown her kindness not many people had, and had given her a chance when everyone else had given up on who they assumed to be just another wicked witch. None of that mattered, though, when your spellcasting abilities sucked and you trembled in the presence of a threat. You couldn't protect her. You could barely protect yourself. 

A sudden touch snapped you from your thoughts. A hand was on your behind, small, thin fingers pressing into your soft flesh through your leggings. You stiffened. Hairs on the back of your neck stood straight as shivers spilled down your spine like a cold, slimy liquid slithering under the surface of your skin. 

Mariah chuckled, low enough so she wouldn't be heard, obviously sensing your discomfort. Her hand remained in place for a few seconds before she removed it. Just when you thought you were safe, she gave your ass a slap. You flinched at unwanted touch, but quickly regained your composure, standing still as a statue once more. All you had to do was ignore her. If you didn't react, she'd stop. Right? That was what she wanted – a reaction, a confirmation that she'd managed to make you even more uncomfortable. 

Right? 

"Nice ass, little witch," she whispered right into your ear, her stale breath lingering on your skin. Your stomach turned, remains of your lunch twirling like a wild tornado inside of you, trashing to break free. 

Giving you a wink, Mariah slapped your ass one more time and left to join the others at the large table. 

As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. Pressing your forehead against the shelf, you took breaths, long and hard, slowly getting your breathing back under control. Why did she touch you like that? She'd made it clear she hated witches, hated you. So why did she do that? Was she interested in you? Or was it some sick, twisted game of predator and prey? 

Unlike Rowena, you were an easy target. You were timid, shy, and easily intimidated. People – bullies, enemies – tended to pick up on that pretty fast. If a high school bully could see it, then so could an experienced, witch-hating hunter. 

Picking up another book with shaky hands, your thoughts wandered to your girlfriend. Should you tell her about this? Should you tell anyone? You shook your head, chasing off the thoughts as soon as they entered your head. Telling Rowena would only escalate the conflict. You were here for her, for a favor for her. She'd earned a distraction from her trauma. You could take a few hours of discomfort. It was nothing compared to the hell Rowena was living every single day. As for Sam and Dean, you doubted they would take you seriously. They may have been annoyed by Mariah, but would they believe she'd go so far as to sexually harass you? You were a witch, and she was a hunter who'd made it clear she wanted nothing to do with you and Rowena. They had no reason to take your word over hers. 

Keeping it to yourself was best. 

You returned to the table, turning your head to avoid Mariah glance. Her eyes followed your every movement. Even when you couldn't see her, you could feel her watching you, observing your every movement like the predator she was. You took a seat next to Rowena, making sure your back was turned to the hunter. Hands trembling, you put the book on the table, careful not to make a noise and draw attention to yourself, and opened it. 

"Everything alright, dear?" Rowena asked quietly. 

You hesitated before looking up at her. There was a trace of concern on her face, having noticed your distress. Swallowing a lump that formed in your throat, you pulled on a fake smile. 

"Yeah. Just nervous, I guess." 

Rowena nodded, and you let out a small sigh of relief. You hated lying to her, but you couldn't tell her the real reason you were out of it. You each went back to skimming through your respective books. You focused on the text on the old pages, doing your best to ignore Mariah. It proved to be a difficult task. Not being able to see her didn't mean you couldn't feel her. Her eyes were on you at all times, glued to your back as if someone had cursed her. Or was it you that was cursed? She sat on the opposite end of the table, yet it felt like she was barely an inch away. Her gaze tore into you like a beast tearing at your back with its long, sharp claws, burying them deep into your skin. You could almost feel the phantom pains. 

This was going to be a very long day. 

Chapter Text

You remained seated beside Rowena for the next few hours, not daring to move out of fear of ending up alone with Mariah again. Your eyes scanned the same page in the book over and over again, the text seared into your brain. This was a serious matter. People had gotten hurt, gotten killed, and there was a dangerous witch walking around, no doubt looking for her next innocent victim. You felt bad for stalling, but you couldn't risk facing the hunter again all on your own. 

Mariah kept her eyes firmly on you, which didn't make the situation any easier. You thought she would give up after a certain point, but the woman was determined. What had you ever done to her? She didn't even know you before a few hours ago. She didn't know what kind of person you were, what kind of witch you were. All she knew was that you were a witch, and that you were dating Rowena. Was that really all it took to harass you? 

"I think I found something," Mariah suddenly said. You stiffened at the sound of her voice. 

"Let me see," Sam said. He got up and walked over to the woman. 

"This spell looks similar to the one that killed the first victim, don't you think?" 

"Hm… not sure." 

"Look at the patterns." 

"Yeah, but the effects are all wrong." 

You allowed yourself to peek back. Mariah and Sam were looking at the page in her book, deep in discussion over her possible discovery. This was your chance for a break. 

"Gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back," you whispered to Rowena, who nodded in acknowledgment of your words. 

Your legs hurt from disuse, but you kept the groans to yourself. Walking into the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and slouched over to the sink, letting your palms fall flat on it for support. You were okay. You'd been through worse than a creepy hunter. You'd walked in on Rowena being burned to a crisp. You'd watched the horrifying healing process which still sometimes haunted your dreams. You'd held her as she cried numerous times. You'd endured her trashing, kicking, and slapping you in her sleep. Those were real problems. This was just a minor inconvenience. 

I'm fine, you told yourself. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. If you were to repeat it enough times, eventually you would believe it. 

Mariah couldn't hurt you unless you let her. And you had let her. You were still letting her. If you'd put your foot down the first time she looked at you like you were property rather than a person, none of this would have happened. And now you were stuck with this, stuck with her. 

Oh, god!  

Relax, you told yourself, chasing away panicked thoughts. Just a few more hours, and you would be free of her. You would never have to see her again. You could handle a bit more discomfort. You'd handled middle schoolers calling your names and poking fun at your looks. You'd handled high schoolers pointing at you and laughing at every movement you'd make, every expression on your face, every little thing you'd do. You'd handled a teacher gaslighting you, instructing you to do the wrong things only to later point out your mistakes, to the point where your hair started falling out and you started dreading her classes. It'd hurt and it'd made you furious, but you'd handled it. And you could handle a hunter looking at you and touching your ass. 

You let the cold water run. You stared at it for a few moments, getting lost in the swishing sounds it made as it hit the sink. Taking a deep breath, you splashed your face. The coldness numbed your skin for a second, and with it numbed the pain and fear. You kept washing your face, letting everything, all the crippling distress, pour down the drain.  

Closing the tap, you reached for one of the towels and buried your face in it. It was old and rough in places, but still soft enough to provide some comfort.  

You were going to be okay. This was simply a bad day. You were under a lot of pressure and you'd let a random hunter get under your skin. Shit happens. You would move on in no time. 

Just as the thoughts hit your head, the door opened behind you. You turned to ask whoever it was to leave, to tell them it was taken, but froze at as the eyes you never wanted to meet again stared right at you. Mariah was smiling, gaze instantly shifting downwards to your breasts, and down to your hips. A smile played on her lips as she did so; it was predatory, just like her. 

"It's taken," you said, thanking all deities you could think of that your voice remained whole. She didn't deserve the satisfaction of making it break. 

"You were gone a while. I got worried," she said with a nonchalant shrug, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her demeanor didn't match her words. 

Bullshit! Pigs would fly before the likes of her would worry about you. "Why?" you asked, though you had an inkling about the reason. 

"Can't have one of my assets on this case get sick or, god forbid, die, now can I?" 

"You said you'd kill me," you reminded her, not buying her explanation for a second. The only thing she wanted was to make you even more uncomfortable, to prey on a witch whose vulnerability she'd smelt the moment she'd laid eyes on her. 

"If you do something. You haven't, have you?" 

You shook your head. You wished you had done something. At least then she'd have a reason to act the way she had. 

Mariah walked towards you, stopping when she was only inches away from you. She reached forwards, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You flinched, heart suddenly beating fast. Uncomfortable heat burned at the back of your neck, chills from earlier replaced by lava, like a thousand fiery ants slithering under your skin. 

"N-no," you stuttered, voice barely above a whisper. You hated yourself for being weak in front of her. There was something about her that scared you. Maybe it was her demeanor, or the way she looked at you, or the threat of death and things much more unpleasant that loomed in her eyes. She was a mere human, yet her presence held power over you; power that easily overcame your own. 

"Are you sure? You can never tell with you witches." Mariah caressed your cheek with surprising tenderness. Her hand trailed lower, the pads of her fingers softly brushing against the exposed skin of your neck. Your vein throbbed against her hand, giving away your uneasiness. She smiled. "There's no need to be scared. You haven't done anything, right?" 

Gulping, you took a step backwards. She followed you, hand never moving from your neck. 

"Leave me alone, please," you said in a small voice. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you held them back. What good would crying do? Besides, she hadn't even done anything. She was just messing with you. You were letting her mess with you. 

You knew you were overreacting, but you couldn't help it. This woman's presence scared the hell out of you. 

"Afraid I can't do that," Mariah said. "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you. I respect Sam and Dean, but working with witches? Really?" She scoffed. "How many people have you killed, little girl? How many innocents have died by your hand? Hm? Tens? Hundreds? You don't even care about these victims, do you? You're not here for them. I know you're not. What are you here for, then? What have Sam and Dean promised you?" 

"None of your business," you said. 

Mariah's fingers curled around the hem of your shirt, a mad glint in her eyes. "Oh, but it is my business," she hissed. "Those people that died? I knew them. I grew up on the same streets as them. They were good people. Hardworking. Honest. They didn't deserve to die. But that didn't matter to your little friend, did it? She took them from us, from our community. Just like that." 

"She's not my friend." 

"Oh, please! All you witches are the same. That little girlfriend of yours – you know what she did? Know how many innocents she's killed?" 

You averted your eyes. 

Mariah sighed. "You don't care," she stated. "And neither do Sam and Dean, apparently. But I do. It makes me sick to even look at her!" 

"Then don't." 

"We got ourselves a smartass." She chuckled. "She teach you that? I bet she taught you a lot of things. She show you how to kill people? I assume it's easy for you guys, magic and all. You see, this runaway witch isn't the only one we should be hunting. Rowena's just as deserving of a witch-killing bullet as she is." 

"Leave her alone," you said, tone raising. Harassing you was one thing. Talking that way about Rowena was pushing it. You would rather die than let anyone lay a hand on your girlfriend again. 

"Touched a nerve, have I? Behave and I won't lay a finger on either of you. Scout's honor," she echoed your words from earlier. "You can behave, right?" Her hand moved lower, cupping your left breast. You swallowed, body turning as still as a statue. Mariah shook her head in disapproval of your reaction. "You're so tense. Relax, honey. Like I said, I'm not gonna kill you if you're innocent." Her bright eyes met your terrified ones. "You are, right?" 

You gave a small nod. 

"There you go. You're a sweet girl, Y/N." 

"You don't know me." 

"I can see it on your face. I'm good at reading people. It's why I'm such a good hunter." Her lips widened into an exaggeratedly sweet smile. "It's a shame you let Rowena corrupt you." 

"She didn't," you defended. You weren't going to let her talk about your girlfriend like that. 

"Oh, but she did. She turned you into her. A witch." Her mouth twisted in disgust at the word. 

"I was born this way." 

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous! No one's born a witch." 

So much for her being, as she said, such a good hunter. A good hunter would know their lore. The woman was nothing but a poser, a wannabe whose only skill was intimidation. The question was, was she as deadly as she seemed? Or was it all just a clever mask to hide her inadequacy? 

"But what would I know?" she added, shrugging. 

Her fingers tightened around your breast. Taken by surprise, you let out a yelp, followed by a hiss, like a wounded animal. Mariah smiled at that, pulling her hand back and releasing you from her hold. You found yourself breathing easier without her touching you. 

"Remember, little witch. Behave." 

The warning was clear in her tone. Keep your head down. Do as you're told. Don't tell anyone what happened. Be a good little witch and don't provoke the hunter. 

You had provoked her, right? That was why she was doing this – right? She wouldn't have bothered you if you hadn't given her a reason to. 

No! You shook those thoughts off. This was all on her. It was her decision to prey on you, her decision to stare and threaten and touch where she wasn't supposed to. You couldn't be blamed for simply existing. She had a problem with witches and was taking it out on you. 

With one final ridiculously fake smile, Mariah turned on her heel and left out the door. 

A couple minutes later you did the same. 

Your heart beat like crazy, nervousness washing over you like a splash of cold water, but you did your best to hide it. You couldn't let it show in front of everyone, in front of Rowena. This was her day, her one chance to focus on something other than the horror she'd gone through. You wouldn't ruin it for her. She deserved that much. 

Rowena eyed you as you came into her line of vision. Her glance trailed over to Mariah, and then back to you, suspicion never leaving her narrowed eyes. Had she noticed something? 

"Is she bothering you, Y/N?" she asked when you sat back down next to her, quietly so only you could hear it. 

You shook your head, hating yourself for not telling her the truth. "She's just… weird. I don't like her." 

It didn't seem like Rowena bought your explanation, but she let it go. "Me, neither. She seems a bit daft." 

You laughed softly at that. 

"I don't trust her," she added. 

You wanted to say that she barely trusted anybody, but you decided to keep it to yourself. The sentiment was clear. 

"Be careful, alright? I don't like the way she looks at you," Rowena said after a few silent moments.  

Warmth blossomed in your heart at her words. Rowena rarely expressed affection verbally. She preferred to show rather than tell. To see her so openly protective felt like a dream. 

You nodded. "Think she'd try something?" 

"Not sure. It's possible. Let's not risk it. She's a hunter. You never know what goes through their thick heads." 

"You be careful, too," you said. At full power, she was near invincible. But that didn't mean she couldn't get hurt. Although her body now healed fast, she could still get injured. After Lucifer, you couldn't handle seeing a single mark on her again. 

"That wee girl even thinks of laying a hand on me, and she will regret it," Rowena said, smirking viciously. 

"Rowena…" 

Sensing the concern in your tone, she sighed in defeat, smirk fading in place of a placating smile. "I'll be careful, dear. Don't worry." 

Considering her recent predicament, it was hard not to. Rowena had a tendency to get herself into trouble. And even when she hadn't, trouble made sure to find her. 

The two of you continued your research. You could feel Mariah's eyes on you as you flipped through the pages. You did your best to ignore her, but discomfort had buried itself too deep for you to just throw it out with a simple thought. The woman had gotten under your skin and now you were stuck with uneasiness she'd left. 

The book turned out to be another dead end. You slammed it shut, no longer able to push back the frustration. How much longer would you have to be here, in this large room that somehow felt small and claustrophobic, breathing the stale air, and enduring the hunter's uncomfortable stare? It had only been a few hours, but you felt like you'd been here for days. 

You got to your feet, carelessly picking up the book and heading for the shelf. So many books in this library, and so far not one had given at least a hint about the identity of the wicked witch or clues about her spellwork. Maybe the Men of Letters weren't as all-knowing as they thought. 

Rowena raised her head when you got up, her eyes following you until you disappeared behind the shelf. You hoped her watching you would discourage Mariah from coming after you again. You couldn't deal with the hunter's bullshit on top of your frustrations. 

Much to your displeasure, she showed up mere moments later. Entirely focused on all the books on the shelf, trying to decide which one to try next, you didn't hear her coming. She snuck up to you from behind, steps as light as a feather, barely audible. Her arms wrapped around you, startling you. Their grip was strong; you tried to squirm out, but found yourself trapped in the cage of her embrace. One hand squeezed your breast, while the other slithered down between your legs. 

"Let go," you said, keeping your voice low enough so only she could hear. The last thing you wanted was to cause a commotion. This was your problem. No one else had to get involved. 

Mariah ignored you. "You didn't behave," she whispered, lips brushing against your ear. 

You shuddered. "I didn't do anything." A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed it, lips tightly shut to keep in the manic breaths that threatened to tear from them. 

"Don't play dumb. I know you and Rowena were talking about me." 

"We weren't," you tried, but she wasn't buying it. 

"Bullshit! She's planning to kill me, isn't she? You both are." 

"No, that's–" 

"Don't lie to me, little girl!" she hissed like a venomous snake. 

You flinched at her tone. "I'm not lying." Tears stung at your eyes and you blinked them back. You wouldn't cry. She wasn't worth it. 

"I should just kill you right here and now," Mariah said, squeezing at your crotch for emphasis. Your stomach turned, and you felt lightheaded. You took in a breath, hoping to stay on your feet. You wouldn't break. Not right now. "You and your little girlfriend." 

"Don't you touch her!" You tried to sound threatening, but at most you came off as desperate. 

"Or what?" Mariah challenged. She snickered. "We both know you can't do anything. She's the one with the power in your relationship, while you…" She clicked her tongue. "Well, you exist. That's something, I guess." 

Maybe there was truth to her words. You would never be half good a witch Rowena was. But she loved you. She cared for you. She protected you. She felt for you the same way you felt for her. That didn't seem like something a person like Mariah could understand. She viewed witches as heartless monsters rather than human beings with magical affinity that they were. She couldn't comprehend their capacity for love, for kindness and vulnerability. Those were human traits. And in her mind, witches weren't human. 

"She deserves to die," Mariah said. "You know that." 

"No!" you said firmly. "Rowena… Rowena's not all bad, I swear." 

"Of course you'd say that. The heart wants what it wants, I suppose." She stayed silent for a moment, and then she said, "She still needs to die." 

"Please, don't hurt her," you begged. 

"Maybe I won't. If you do a little something for me, I may just leave her alone," Mariah said. She gripped you tighter, making it clear what her insinuation entailed. "I'm sure we can come to an agreement. That's how it works with your kind, isn't it? You do something for me and I do something for you." 

A tear broke free, sliding down your cheek. "Please," you whimpered. 

"Come on. It won't be that bad. Who knows? Maybe you'll like it." 

"No." 

Mariah nuzzled your neck with the tip of her nose, and then pressed a kiss to a spot below your ear. She was surprisingly gentle, like a lover rather than an enemy. You almost felt guilty for being disgusted by her. Almost, for even if she was tender, that didn't change the fact that she was hurting you. This was nothing but manipulation. She'd found your weakness, and she wanted to exploit it. 

When Rowena touched you like this, she always made sure that you wanted it. She never pressured you into it or tried to manipulate you. 

Mariah was playing with your mind, intent on taking what she wanted for no reason other than to hurt you. She wasn't into you, she didn't like you as a person, and she hated your kind. She saw you as nothing more than a plaything. 

"Do it for Rowena," Mariah said, laying another kiss to your neck. Her hand massaged your breast, gently pressing at the nipple. 

"No. Please," you begged, more tears falling. 

"You don't want me to hurt her, do you?" 

"No." 

"Then do it." 

"I don't want to." 

You didn't want her hands on you. You didn't want her kissing you. You didn't want her breath burning your skin. You didn't want her threats or her sweet words that screamed danger. 

You didn't want her, Mariah Moore, anywhere near you. 

"I'll do it, you know? Wouldn't be my first time hunting down a witch," she said. 

"Please, don't," you said in a small voice. Rowena had been through enough. She shouldn't have to deal with a petty hunter trying to kill her. Mariah wasn't capable of inflicting much damage – you were willing to bet not even Lucifer would be able to hurt her as much as he had before – but even trying to would upset your girlfriend. That was the last thing you wanted. Rowena needed peace. She'd earned it after horribly dying. Mariah had already offended her; she didn't need to try to kill her, as well. 

"Then you know what you have to do." 

"No, I won't do it. I won't," you said, helplessly struggling against her hold. 

She pressed herself firmer against you. Your breathing fastened and you started panting. Panic spread through your body, burning your nerves like fire. Mariah chuckled as she felt the vein on your neck bobbing rapidly, your body betraying you right underneath her lips. She was too strong and you were too weak to push her away. You tried to think of a spell, but your mind was a blank. What was that spell that made people freeze in place? Or the one that sent them flying? You were sure you knew them by heart. It was as if your brain froze, and the only thing you could do as the hunter kissed your neck and squeezed parts of your body she had no right to even look at, let alone touch, was wiggle in feeble attempts to get her to leave you alone. 

"Rowena would be so disappointed in you," Mariah said. She kissed below your jaw, and it felt like your skin was on fire where her lips came in contact with it. 

She wouldn't, you thought. Rowena would never be disappointed in you. You gave her a chance when everyone else thought her as nothing more than just another wicked witch. You stood with her, fought with her, learned from her. You listened to her when she had a problem, and took care of her when she was in need. You trusted her, and eventually she started trusting you, as well. She wouldn't hold this against you. She loved you too much for that. 

"Get off," you said. Then, taking a deep breath, you added with more force, "Get off me!" 

Mariah ignored your pleas, laying more kisses to your neck. The hand on your breast twisted, long nails digging into your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra. That was going to leave a bruise later. You let out a yelp, like a puppy whose paw got trampled. You didn't care if anyone heard you. You couldn't take this anymore. Constant looks, casual touches, and threats were one thing, but this was too much. How far was she willing to go? You didn't want to find out. 

"Stop! Get off!" you exclaimed, putting as much force into your words as possible. 

You could deal with Sam and Dean judging you. You could deal with Rowena getting upset. What you couldn't deal with were Mariah's hands on you, her nasty breath in your face. Not anymore. You were weak and pathetic, a poor excuse for a witch. The realization made you cry harder. That was what Rowena would be disappointed at. You were a disgrace to witchkind, the kind of a witch Rowena looked at with disdain. 

She wouldn't be mad at you for betraying her. She'd be mad at you for betraying magic. 

"Get off!" you exclaimed desperately. 

Everything happened in what felt like half a second. 

High heels clicked. A shout of "Abi" sounded through the library. The pressure on your body vanished as quickly as it had appeared, weight lifting off your tense shoulders. You allowed yourself a deep breath, free of the constraints that had just a moment ago caged you. 

Mariah was off of you. 

And Rowena was glaring, eyes flashing a furious purple. 

Chapter Text

A shriek echoed throughout the library, piercing like that of a banshee announcing her next victim's death. Then there was a thud, and suddenly the ground shook as if an elephant had walked by in near proximity. Rowena was standing right across from you. Her eyes were purple, glowing bright under fluorescent lights. You found yourself lost in their magic. Sparks were flickering up and down her face like specks of lilac electricity on her pale skin. One of her hands was raised high above her head, and her finger was pointing to your right. 

It took you a moment to dare look there. Your eyes widened and you flinched, finally noticing that the large shelf next to you had vanished. Books and broken pieces of wood spilled across the floor. It was only then that you realized how huge the shelf really was. There must have been hundreds of books sprawled out in messy piles among the rubble. You felt bad; it was a shame to see such valuable objects in that condition. You hoped none had been too damaged. 

In the very middle, buried under chunks of wood and leather-bound encyclopedias, was Mariah. She was groaning, trying to shake the books off herself. Instinctively, you took a few steps back, putting more distance between yourself and the hunter. Even looking at her was making your limbs tremble. You wanted to be away from her, away from her piercing gaze and slimy touches. 

Hunters and witches were born enemies. This, however, was too much. This wasn't the way her kind was supposed to treat yours. Usually, one killed the other; sometimes painfully, and other times not, depending on the persons involved. Sexual harassment was not part of the deal. 

It was not supposed to have happened to you. 

A whimper escaped you as the thought hit you, the reality of the situation dawning on you like a sharp slap in the face. You'd been sexually harassed. By a hunter, no less – a short woman who didn't look like she could open a jar by herself, let alone do something like this. There were two other hunters in the room with you, two large men who could crush you with their bare hands. Yet it was a woman who was even tinier than Rowena that had hurt you. 

You laughed at that. How pathetic you were, that you couldn't defend yourself from someone like that. Mariah was right. Rowena was going to be disappointed. Not just in your utter failure as a witch, but in you as a person, as well. She'd survived an archangel killing her in cold blood – twice! – and you couldn't even hold your own against a human. Tears spilled down your face like a downpour. You'd let Rowena down. You were supposed to protect her. After everything she'd been through, you were supposed to keep her away from drama – especially your drama. The last thing she needed in her condition was to get upset. 

You should have said yes. 

I'm sorry, you thought as sobs tore from your throat, loud and whiny and pathetic, just like you. You promised yourself you would look after Rowena, keep her stress level at a minimum in order to help her recover. You were able to keep your word for over half a year, and then this happened. A moment of weakness, and everything went to hell. 

You were the weakling Rowena had sworn to herself never to be again. 

Oh, god! Oh, god! Oh, god!  

You slammed your hands over your mouth to quiet the sobs, ignoring the sting of skin slapping against skin. Rowena must have been furious. She'd spent centuries building up strength and pushing back all traces of weakness, only to end up dating someone just like that. A nobody, a witch who'd forgotten to use her power when she most needed it. You wouldn't blame her if she wanted to leave you. 

Was she going to leave you? 

No. You shook your head frantically. No. Please, no. 

It would only be natural. You weren't worthy of a grand witch like her. Unbound, her power equaled that of a deity. You, on the other hand, were barely above a human. 

I' m sorry.  

"Who the bloody hell do you think you are?!" Rowena snarled. 

Your heart skipped a beat, chills of dread spilling down your spine. A breath caught in your throat; you held it for a few moments, and then released it, realizing her words weren't directed at you. 

They were directed at Mariah. 

The hunter, now kneeling amongst the mess, was staring at her. Rowena glared intensely. If looks could kill, Mariah would have dropped dead right that instant. The witch's hands were clenched into tight fists, knuckles white from the pressure. She was shaking like a rabid dog about to attack. Her features were twisted into a look of pure, unadulterated rage. 

The only time you'd seen her this angry was when she was reminiscing about Lucifer. 

Did she look like that because Mariah had hurt you? Was she mad for you? 

"She was asking for it," Mariah said, not one bit intimidated. Even on the floor, surrounded by broken shelves and books, she managed to stand her ground. Had she not harmed you, you would have been impressed by her courage. In this case, it sickened you. 

You hadn't asked for any of it. You'd spent hours avoiding her, telling her no, and pushing her away. You'd done everything right – it was her who kept persisting. You didn't even want to be here. You were just trying to help your girlfriend, and got harassed in the process. 

"Asking for it?!" Rowena's accent grew thicker with each word. The purple in her eyes shined brighter, and more sparks flashed up and down her face before being absorbed back into her skin. 

"What the hell?!" Dean suddenly exclaimed. 

In all the commotion, you forgot he and Sam were here. Turning to look at him, you gulped at the sight of a gun in his hand – pointed straight at Rowena. Sam was standing next to him, his gaze shifting from Mariah to Rowena, and then to you. Confusion was spread across both their faces. You couldn't blame them. If a shelf had suddenly fallen while you were deep in research, and a witch you didn't particularly like was standing over your acquaintance and looking like she wanted to squeeze the life out of her with her bare hands, you would have questions, too. 

"Rowena, what are you doing?" Sam asked. He gestured to the mess. "What is all this?" 

"She was trying to kill me!" Mariah said before Rowena could answer. 

"Oh, really? I told you this was a bad idea, Sam," Dean said. 

Sam sighed. "You don't have to remind me." 

"I was protecting Y/N," Rowena said. "This cunt was harassing her!" 

Mariah glared at her at the insult, a growl escaping her tight lips. 

"Yeah, right," Dean said, clearly not believing her words. 

Rowena turned her stare on him. "She was touching her – inappropriately! If I hadn't shown up, god knows what else she would have done!" 

"It's not true!" Mariah shouted. 

"And we're supposed to believe that?" Dean asked, addressing the witch. 

"Believe what you want, Winchester. I know what I saw." She narrowed her eyes. "If I'd known this is how you would treat Y/N, treat both of us, I never would've agreed to help you. Favours from you aren't worth putting up with harassment!" 

Both brothers frowned. They exchanged glances, silently debating whether to trust her. They weren't big fans of Mariah, either, but could they believe she would do something like that? On the other hand, why would Rowena lie? She was here for a favor. She wouldn't risk it over a petty dispute with a hunter she didn't even know. 

Sam's expression softened. He turned to you and asked in a friendly, gentle tone, "Y/N, is it true?" 

"It's not!" Mariah cut in. 

"We didn't ask you!" Dean said. 

You nodded. A whimper escaped you as you did so, and you pressed your hands tighter to your mouth. The secret was out now. There was no point denying it. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" the younger Winchester asked. 

"She-she said she was gonna hurt Rowena," you said in a small voice, almost a whisper. 

Something broke in Rowena at that. Sadness joined the rage on her face. She'd never looked at you like that before, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you and make everything bad go away. She looked almost like a mother desperate to protect her child. You were usually the one protecting and taking care of her. It was strange for the roles to be reversed. 

Dean tensed. His eyes scanned you, and then Rowena, and, realizing you were telling the truth, he lowered his gun. 

Only to then point it at Mariah. 

Your heart skipped a beat. He believed you? Dean Winchester, the man who would have rather let Rowena die at Lucifer hands again than give her a means to protect herself, believed you? He believed a witch over a hunter? You expected Sam to be sympathetic, but Dean? You wondered if it was a dream, if you would wake up anytime now and find the gun full of witch-killing bullets pointed directly at your head. 

Warmth filled your heart, and then your entire body, running through your veins like fire. Not only had Sam and Dean believed you, but Rowena had, as well. She wasn't angry at you. She wasn't judging you or accusing you. You were scared for nothing. Your girl would never leave you over something that was out of your control – especially after finding out you were trying to protect her. 

"Seriously? You're taking her word over mine?" Mariah said incredulously. 

"You've been staring at her all day," Dean accused. 

"She's a witch. Of course I was keeping an eye on her!" 

So was Rowena, yet Mariah had been intent on keeping her gaze solely on you. This wasn't about her looking out for possible danger – it was bigotry, pure and simple. She hated witches. You were willing to bet there was nothing in this world that she hated more than your kind. Was that why she'd become a hunter? To hunt down all witches? 

Sam and Dean were raised in this life. They'd made mistakes, but for the most part they only had people's best interests at heart. 

Mariah, on the other hand, acted out of pure vengeance. She wasn't hunting to make the world a better, safer place. As a matter of fact, she was one of the things that made this world a very unsafe place. 

They were hunting to protect. 

She was hunting to destroy. 

Targeting you had proven it. Mariah hated Rowena just as much as she hated you. But it wasn't her she had bothered, wasn't her she'd stared at and groped and tried to force herself onto. Rowena being a powerful witch was common knowledge – especially now that she was unbound. If Mariah had even though of laying a finger on her, Rowena would have made sure she would never consider it again. 

Your girlfriend was an alpha witch. You were a beta, a submissive to her dominant. You stood no chance against a predator. 

"You should be more careful about who you let into your home," Mariah continued. 

The brothers exchanged a glance. 

"You're right," Dean said. Your breath hitched at the same time as Mariah smiled, victory creeping onto her face. It faded when he added, "Get out." 

You swallowed, hard, unable to hide your surprise. 

Mariah shared your sentiment. "What?" 

"Get out!" 

"It's my case!" she snapped. 

"And we'll close it. Without you," Sam said. 

"You're making a mistake!" she exclaimed. 

"I doubt it." 

"Trusting witches over hunters… what happened to you two? You used to side with humans!" 

"We side with what's right. And that's not you." 

"The world's not black and white, sweetheart," Dean stated. "Now get the hell out, or we'll make you. And you don't want that. Trust me." 

Mariah got to her feet with a growl, kicking a couple of books off as she did so. "This isn't over!" she snarled, tone radiating with fiery fury. She narrowed her eyes at the brothers and Rowena, and then her gaze shifted over to you. "Sleep well, little witch. Better hope you don't wake up to iron through your heart." 

"Don't threaten her," Rowena hissed, like a snake about to lunge at her prey. The purple in her eyes flashed, giving off sparks. She raised a hand and clenched her fingers into a half-fist. "Impetus–" 

"Rowena, no!" Sam said, interrupting the spell. 

"What do you mean, no? She just threatened Y/N!" Rowena snapped. 

"She knows better than to act on it," Dean said. "Don't you Mariah?" 

The hunter in question just glared. 

Rowena was about to argue, but you cut in. 

"Rowena, please. Let her go. I just want this to be over with." 

You wanted nothing more than for Mariah to be gone for good. But Sam and Dean would never let it happen. However bad she was, she was still human. And they rarely killed humans. Had she been a witch, they wouldn't have hesitated putting a witch-killing bullet through her head. The double standard hurt, but you took comfort in the fact that they were kicking her out. That was as good as you – a witch, in a relationship with an even more powerful witch – were going to get. 

"Y/N–" 

"Please," you whimpered. 

Rowena sighed. She glared at Mariah. "You better hope I never see you again." 

The hunter huffed, but said nothing. She walked out, slamming every door behind her as she did so. As soon as you heard the main door, you let out a breath. Relief washed over you like a splash of cold water to the face in early morning. Your heartbeat, while still fast, was slowly calming, less frantic than a moment ago. 

The hunter had suddenly gone silent. Your sobs were the only sound being heard. Their echo throughout the large space felt like it was mocking you, every single one coming back to you like a boomerang. You hated it; hated crying in front of everyone, hated letting them see you at your worst. But you couldn't help it. Your body refused to cooperate, willing itself to feel openly rather than push it back. Why was this happening to you? Why couldn't you stop crying? 

"Come here, darling," Rowena said. You looked up, finding her next to you, arms open and welcoming. The purple glow in her eyes had faded, forest green staring into you with love and care she rarely let surface in public. It was a reminder of how much she had changed. There was a time when she wouldn't even look at you in front of other people, lest they become suspicious of what she'd then considered weakness. She'd come a long way since then. It wasn't just trauma that had made her turn over a new leaf. It was you, showering her with affection every single day, that greatly contributed, too. 

You didn't need to be told twice. You threw your arms around her and held her to you with all the strength you could muster. She held onto you as well, but her grip was nowhere near as strong as yours. Usually, she would have protested being held too tightly, but this time she let you. You needed her with you, needed her skin against yours, her warmth to combat the cold that had taken over you. You were safe. She was safe. As long as you remained together, both of you were safe. Nothing and no one could come between you. Not even Lucifer – not anymore. If he was to try to go after Rowena again, she would make him regret it. And she would do the same to Mariah. 

If not even the devil could hurt her, a measly human didn't stand a chance. 

"I'm sorry," you squeaked, weeping into her hair. 

"Hush, dear," she cooed. "Don't blame yourself." 

"Please, don't be mad at me." 

"Why in the world would I be mad at you?" she said, as if what you said was the most ridiculous thing in the world. "You haven't done anything wrong." 

It was comforting to know that she was with you, that she didn't blame you or feel any resentment towards you. You didn't know what you would have done if she was to hate you. You had no family or friends. Rowena was the only thing in the world you had left, the only person you could count on. If she left… 

No. You weren't going to think about that. Your girl was here, supporting you, holding you, loving you. There was no point in dwelling on depressing what ifs. 

"Don't be scared, darling. The only one who should be scared is that utter fanny. I promise you, she will never hurt you again." 

You believed her. If she said it, it had to be true. Rowena wouldn't lie to you. Even at the very beginning of your relationship, back when it was that of a student and mentor rather than a romantic one, she'd always been straight with you. She manipulated and cheated and did the worst of things, but she'd remained true to you. She told it to you as it was, no sugar coating and with far less tact and care as she had now. But it was the truth, and that was what mattered. That was what still mattered. 

If Rowena promised you were safe, then you were. You trusted her with your life. No matter what happened, she would protect you. Mariah stood no chance against a superwitch – one that could hold a mean grudge. The hunter better pray that they never cross paths again. 

Taking in a few deep breaths, you slowly released her and pulled back from the hug. You stopped crying, but earlier shed tears were still wet on your face. The bitterness was stinging at your cheeks, as if you'd been slapped, repeatedly and mercilessly. Red eyes, burning cheeks, trembling lips and limbs… You must have looked like a mess. 

"Let's-let's clean this up and get back to research, okay?" you offered. That was what you were here for. The brothers wouldn't make good on their promise of a favor if no work had been done. "We've wasted enough time already." 

"We're not doing anything of the sort," Rowena told you. Her tone left no room for argument. "We're going home." 

"But your favor–" 

"You're more important than any favour these bampots could offer." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Aye." She reached for your hand and wrapped her fingers around yours, squeezing them. Her touch brought comfort, a promise of love and protection. "You come first." 

You come first.  

You come first.  

You come first.  

The words rang in your head, like a broken phone replaying the message on a seemingly endless loop. Rowena's love for you was no secret, but this was the first time she'd said anything like this out loud. Your heart jumped with joy, and a small smile broke on your shaky lips. She cared. She really did. She may have preferred to show it with actions rather than words, but she felt for you just as strongly as you had for her. It was common knowledge for some time now, yet every time she let it show, let herself show it, the same warmth rushed through your body. 

Loving Rowena MacLeod was difficult. Getting her to love you even more so. But it was worth it. 

Rowena smiled back at you. "Come now, darling. A nice, warm bath and a wee cup of tea, and you'll feel a lot better." 

"Only if you make the tea." 

"I'll make the tea." 

"Yours is the best." 

"I know." 

Clearing of a throat prompted the both of you to look up. Sam and Dean were looking at you, confusion written over their faces. You'd almost forgotten they were there. 

"Y/N, you okay?" Sam asked. 

"Yeah," you replied. You were far from okay, but what else were you supposed to say? That you were miserable? That you hated yourself for upsetting Rowena? That you wanted to strangle Mariah with your bare hands, and at the same time didn't want to be anywhere near her? That would have gone so well. 

"We're leaving," Rowena announced. 

The brothers (especially Dean) tried to argue, but she wouldn't budge. The two of you had made a decision and were sticking to it. You felt a bit bad, and not only for Rowena. People had died. A powerful witch was on the loose, no doubt looking for more victims. Sam and Dean were counting on your help. But you couldn't stay. Not after what happened. You needed time to recover, away from any hunters, away from anyone who wasn't Rowena. You craved solitude like a vampire craved blood. Your thoughts were a mess, and getting them in order came before socializing. 

Like Rowena said, you came first. 

Sam and Dean weren't happy with the mess Rowena had made, but they let you go without much of a fuss. You felt guilty, leaving them to clean all of it up by themselves. You decided not to let it bother you, instead focusing on getting home as soon as possible. Rowena held your hand the entire way there, not letting go for even a second. The cab ride was silent. You rested your head on Rowena's shoulder. You closed your eyes, but you were wide awake, fear that you would see Mariah again in your dreams chasing away every desire to sleep. You didn't want to think about that horrible woman. You hated her for managing to get under your skin, for haunting you despite being miles away. 

I' m okay.  

You repeated it like a mantra until you reached the safety of your home. 

I' m okay.  I' m okay.  I' m okay.  

Still, for no reason other than to put your mind at ease, you checked the warding guarding your house. You sighed in relief to find it intact. You were safe. No being, whether human or supernatural, could enter your home without your permission. The warding used to simply hide you from being located by magical means, but ever since Rowena's second death and her subsequent trauma, the two of you had upgraded it. Now, if anyone – or anything – wanted to enter the premises, they needed a verbal invite. 

Rowena had been kind enough to prepare you a bath. She informed you she added two magical bath bombs that she'd made herself, enchanted to soothe you, and told you to stay in for as long as you wanted. There was no rush. You almost asked her to join you, but at the very last minute decided against it. You could use some alone time. You were pretty sure she could use it, too. What was supposed to be her stress-free day turned out to be quite eventful. You knew it wasn't your fault, but you still felt a bit guilty. She had, after all, had to defend you. 

You gave Rowena a quick hug and a peck to the cheek, as well as your sincerest gratitude, before disappearing into the bathroom. Bath bombs took effect the moment your toes touched the water. As you laid down, you found yourself growing sleepy. Calming energy surged through your body as water engulfed it. It felt like honey replaced the blood in your veins. Sudden softness filled your every pore, touched your every nerve. The tension in your muscles melted off as if it had never been there. Thoughts of Mariah dissipated, replaced by numbing, welcome blackness. Closing your eyes, you saw nothing, felt nothing, thought of nothing – nothing but serenity that radiated off every single cell in your being.  

You wanted to lie that way forever. Unfortunately, you were chased off by water growing cold. Drying every last droplet off your skin made the magic in it fade away. Mariah's words, so sweet and yet so deadly, returned to haunt your thoughts. And when you closed your eyes, you could almost still feel her hands on your breast and between your legs. What if she found you again? 

Don't be ridiculous, you chastised yourself. Your home was warded. And even if she somehow managed to bypass that, Rowena wouldn't let anything happen to you. The hunter's insides would melt before she'd even have a chance to utter a threat. 

You put on your nightwear and went straight to bed. Usually, you would either cuddle with Rowena on the couch in the living room or browse your favorite social media sites. Tonight you didn't feel up to any of it. You just wanted to sleep and forget. Forget Mariah, forget everything she'd said and done to you. Forget the guilt you felt for managing to ruin another one of Rowena's days. 

You were crawling under the covers when Rowena walked into the bedroom, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. 

"Cup of tea, dear?" she offered, smiling sweetly at you. 

You nodded, outstretching your arms. She handed you the tea, and then settled into bed beside you. 

"I added a touch of sleeping potion. It won't knock you out, but it will help you fall asleep faster." 

"Thank you," you said. In the months since her trauma, you'd become acquainted with the sleeping potion. Rowena had been taking it almost every night. There were nights she would wake you with a kick or a scream, and you would have to take a dose, too, your worry for her making it impossible to fall back asleep. 

You took a few sips of your tea and placed the cup on the bedside table. Rowena's hand took yours as soon as it was free, tiny fingers twining with your own in a tender, loving knot. 

"How are you feeling?" she asked, tone matching her hold. 

"Better," you replied. 

"Not good?" 

"No." 

There was no point in lying. Rowena would see right through it. She always had. 

Something broke on her face and she quickly smoothened her features, pushing it back. She put on a brave face for you, just as you had for her countless times before. You needed a rock, someone you could trust to pull you back from the darkness taking over your mind. Rowena intended to be that person. 

"Is there anything I can do?" she said, looking you over, her eyes stopping once they connected with yours. 

"Just… be here." 

You wished there was more that you could ask of her. There was no doubt that she would give it to you, no matter how crazy or impossible it seemed. She couldn't erase Mariah from your mind. She couldn't undo the things she'd said and done to you. She couldn't chase away the fear and concern eating you alive. She was a superwitch, but not even she was that powerful. Not even she could travel in time. 

What she could do was remain by your side. Having her beside you, holding your hand, her heart beating in synchronicity with yours, was more than enough. 

Rowena nodded. She laid down and motioned for you to follow after her. You did so without complaint, curling into her open arms and resting your head on her chest. You listened to the soothing melody of her heartbeat as she ran her hand up and down your arm, the pads of her fingers brushing against your skin like the softest, gentlest silk. 

"Rowena?" you said suddenly, breaking the silence that had befallen you. 

"Yes, dear?" 

"I'm scared." 

Tears streamed down your face as soon as the words left your mouth. You buried your face into Rowena's pajamas, your hand clutching at the fine fabric with enough strength to turn your knuckles white. 

"I know she can't hurt me here, but I'm so scared. I can't make it stop." 

It wasn't easy to say those words, but you had to let it out. Rowena wouldn't think any less of you. She knew what it was like to feel unsafe in your own home, to fear someone no matter how far away they were. She'd been there – she was still there. If there was anyone you could trust with this, it was her. 

"I don't think I'll feel safe for as long as she's around." 

Rowena stayed silent for a long moment, contemplating her thoughts. Then she said, "I won't let her hurt you." Her voice was laced with determination, deadly and comforting at the same time, its tone a promise she'd intended to keep. 

"I know," you whispered. "But…" 

Your voice broke, all words leaving you. A sob you'd been trying to hold back escaped your mouth, followed by another, and another. Rowena wouldn't lie to you, especially about something like this. Why couldn't your brain believe her the way your heart had? 

"I know, darling. I know," she cooed, emphasizing her words by rubbing soft circles over your forearm with her thumb. "I promise you, she will never lay a hand on you again." 

"I wish she was dead!" you cried out through sobs. There weren't that many people you wanted dead. You and Rowena had taken care of those that had hurt you the most; all that remained on your list were a few bullies you couldn't decide whether you wanted to kill or simply curse. Mariah had quickly taken first place. 

"I would have killed her, but…" 

"Sam and Dean," you said. "If they weren't there, I wouldn't have stopped you." 

"What's by is by, dear. I assure you, that hunter will not be a problem." 

"Okay," you whispered, thought you still weren't one hundred percent sure. 

You thought back to the warding and Rowena's unbound power. There wasn't a safer place for you than where you were. You just needed a night of sleep, you concluded. The memories were still fresh; they needed some time to settle down. 

"Thank you." 

"It's nothing, darling. Sleep now. Get some rest," Rowena said. 

You didn't need much convincing. Today's events had worn you out as it was and, combined with a little help of Rowena's tea mixed with sleeping potion, you were out in minutes. Thankfully, your dreams were peaceful, not a trace of the horrible hunter in sight. Sometime later, you felt Rowena wiggle out from under you and gently tuck you in. Too tired, you made no attempt to stop her, opting to keep sleeping. You knew she wouldn't be gone for long. 

The next morning you woke up to coffee, homemade breakfast, and a small, velvet-wrapped box containing a fresh human heart waiting for you on the table.