extreme ways (narrative, possibly open to dean or anita)
Aeon Flux was not afraid of anything... except, inexplicably, plastic straws. And when she set her mind to something (or more precisely, to eradicating someone), it was done. Some time ago, she decided to look into this Crossroads thing. Look into the demon that Dean was talking about owing his soul to.
She wasn't after silver bullets just for kicks. And she wasn't stupid enough to think they were all that she'd need, either. Shacking up with a Winchester had benefits that extended beyond the bedroom; Aeon was learning--and fast-- how to fight all the things that went bump in the night.
Aeon summoned the demon the way she knew it was done-- a picture of yourself, the bones of a black cat... she even fell down on her knees at the crossroads (on the opposite side of town from her apartment, not far from Arkham Asylum) and buried all the pieces of the puzzle, disturbing a chunk of asphalt to do it. She stood now, arms crossed over her chest, a gun on her hip and a gun on her back, waiting for the demon to appear.
It was pitch black out here, and soundless. When Aeon heard footsteps behind her, on the pavement, she turned her head quickly over her shoulder.
A man stood there. Tall. Dark. Handsome. A walking cliche. And he was smiling. "Ms. Flux," he said, tone all honey and sin. "You rang?"
Aeon's eyebrow arched, and with a shake of her head, her eye turned black, covered with a lense. A tilt of her head, a turn of her body, and Aeon faced him, scanning his face. This was not a man. This was a demon, wearing a man like a suit. Aeon scowled at it. And she shook her head again, black sliding away from her eye to that cold ice green that was normally there.
"What," the thing asked, almost purring, "can I do for you, hm?" "Can the act." It laughed. And it blinked. Its eyes turned red and blinked wrong... instead of the lids closing downward, they closed from the side...
Okay. That was fucking unnerving.
"I want you to talk to me." "I love talking to people. I can talk them into anything." The thing came closer, and bit its lower lip. "Any. Thing." "Talk to me about how someone gets out of a deal. A deal they made with one of you." Another blink. Aeon's hand went to her thigh and she felt her finger itch to draw the gun. "Tsk. Gun won't help." Aeon smiled cruelly. The city street was utterly dead and still. She couldn't even see anything in any direction, just a black void, and somehere behind her, the Asylum. "But it'll hurt like hell. Tell me." "Why? Don't tell me you want to help someone. That's not your modus operandi now, is it?" "I like shocking you bastards. What can I say?" "This wouldn't have anything to do with Dean Winchester, would it?"
Aeon swallowed. She did not prepare to have her mind read. Was that what this was? The demon didn't feel like River in her head. Did it just.... know?
"Ms. Flux... we have no intention of letting him out of his deal. It's out of my hands. Dean Winchester made a deal--quite a noble gesture, too, I'm sure you'll agree--and he knew what the fine print said."
Without another thought at all on the subject, Aeon drew the gun and shot the demon in the arm. It bled, and it hissed.
"Whose hands," she growled, "is it in?" The thing raised red, inhuman eyes to hers, and it smiled. "The Boss, Ms. Flux. The Boss."
Aeon took another few steps toward it. "Your boss?" It glared. "Duh." Aeon raised the gun and chambered a new round. "A name. Now." "Ms. Flux, why do you think I'm afraid of bullets? Do you know where I live?" "Don't care." "You should. You think with the body count you wracked up, when you finally kick, when you finally buy the farm and it sticks, you think you're going where Una is?"
Aeon gasped. Her hand shook slightly.
"Ms. Flux, Hell is not a cakewalk. I suggest you prepare yourself for that. Mmmm. But..." The demon was back to the unnerving purring, oblivious to the gunshot wound it had on its arm. "I am not about to let Dean out of his deal, not without some kind of..." The demon raised a brow. "Incentive." Aeon's heart thudded. "What do you have to give me, Ms. Flux? Or, better..." The demon took a step toward her, standing inches from her now. Aeon could smell its blood, and sulfur. "What is it you want?" She set her jaw, but her hand would not let her aim. "I could send you home, you know. I could give Una back to you. Like Dean got Sam back. And all it would cost you is your soul. You're not really using it, are you? It's going to us anyway, darling. Ten years with Una. Ten years back in Monica, with no memory of this City, no memory of Hannibal Lecter and River Tam. Ten clean years, ten years of your life the way it was meant to be lived."
Aeon's lip stiffened. She could see Una's face, behind her eyes, and closed her eyes against a tear. No. No no no no. No. Handler wasn't even paying attention to her anymore. There should be alarm bells here, shouldn't there? Her spine should be vibrating. Ringing. She wondered if the tie was severred, finally. The demon leaned inward, whispering, lips close to her ear. "I ca give you ten years without the baggage, Ms. Flux. Without wondering if you're going to die that day and wake up the next dazed."
She didn't make a sound. The stillness of the night was deafening. Until Aeon put her gun right to the demon's head and clicked back the hammer. "Stop. Trying. To. Play." She whispered, lips as close to the thing's ear as she could stand--which was pretty close. "Me." She set her jaw. "Your boss. Who is it?"
The demon glared. "You're quite dense." "Do you want to get shot?" "No. But you see, this is not my body. It's a loaner. Do the fucking math, Aeon. I'm a demon." She shook her head. The demon nodded. "Did you think making a deal with the devil was just a metaphor, baby?" She stared, incredulous. "Dean Winchester's soul belongs to Satan. Or whatever it is you yourself call him. And the Boss is not letting that one go. In less than a year, the hellhounds are coming to collect." It smiled. "I want to see it happen, personally."
Aeon wished she had the Colt. This thing was on her last fucking nerve. She grunted in exasperation.
"What IS it, I wonder, about these Winchester boys and the capacity for sacrifice because of them?" The demon grinned. "Sex that good?"
Aeon narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose in anger, dropping the gun and making a fist with the hand that held the black ring. Before the demon knew what hit it, Aeon hit it. Hard. In the face. The ring hit just right, breaking the nose and slamming into bone. Hard.
Hard enough to knock the man it was wearing unconscious. Hard enough that when he hit the ground in the middle of the Crossroads, his mouth opened, wide, and a black cloud of... something... flew out of him, whooshing past her violently and with a screaming sound.
The demon was gone.
And Aeon wondered if talking the Devil out of a deal was something she could manage.
She turned her back on the man, lying there in a heap, out like a light, and shivered, walking away, mind racing.