#ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ꜱʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜ ᴇ ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ ɴ - ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴ' ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

[hellsrebellion]

'Stay.'

It wasn't a command. And Roman was once again reminded that this version of Camilla both confused and terrified him. Rather than demanding with harshness, it's a gentle plea within her soft voice. Had there been some sort of domineering tone to it, he might've just offered some muttered excuse as to why he needed to go.

He was busy-- and he didn't necessarily need rest or sleep like she did. It was optional; although his meat suit certainly would've appreciated it. Not that there was anyone in there with needs, he'd made sure of that. It had been more on the front of selfishness than him having some 'sanctity of human life' bullshit.

'You can pretend and act like you're so different from the others, but how good can you be? You're holding someone hostage inside their own body right now, you're no better.' Roman still remembered a time not too long ago when she'd looked at him with disgust and voiced her disdain for him.

Her words like daggers, sharp with the intention to cut him up.

"Meat suit was already dead." He'd retorted flatly, turning back to face her after nearly leaving Singer's because he 'didn't need this shit'. Not knowing why he even felt the need to whip around explaining himself to her- as if he needed to. He could've just left despite the tether, then it would've been on her to call him back if she wanted to continue throwing verbal punches. Remind him of what he was, the hatred she harbored toward him. "Gunshot victim.. he'd already been beamed up, Scotty…he'd flatlined, they called time- lights out. There ain't nobody in here with me." His words had been spit with the same amount of venom, "So.. got anything else you wanna reem me for.. or we done for now?"

At the time, Roman had just accepted they'd never be able to see beyond black eyes and soullessness-- she'd always circle right back around to what he was despite his intentions. When Camilla had been of her own judgement Roman remembered her trying to reason with the Winchesters and Singer that he'd gain nothing from lying to them about what he knew. She hadn't known he'd been listening, but he had. As long as she had Dean in her's, that animosity would remain.. they were the only family that she had left. She'd never do anything to compromise that.. especially side with a demon.

"Look--we don't gotta get along, don't even gotta speak to one another 'less we have to. I'm just intel, can leave all the personal shit out of the equation.. I tell you what I know, you do with that information what you will. Call me here, just make sure it's need-to-know basis.. Dean can bottle his noise up 'til this is over and take me out for what Azazel did to his family after- we all got bigger problems right now."

It hadn't been some lifetime ago-- they'd still only known one another for a few months now. Which is why it was unnerving how quickly she'd become something.. important to him. He did care what she thought of him, had wanted her trust and that sense of longing he'd been grappling with never faded out, it only grew the longer he was around her.

Roman's expression softens on her in slight at the singular word, shifting his weight in his worn combats as those doe eyes search his own. He swallows and nods, barely detectable.

"Alright.." he says quietly to her, his low and deep voice in that uncharacteristically gentle tone- the one he only ever held with her when she got like this. Confusing, infuritating.. he didn't know which it was more of anymore.

Once again he just finds himself full of excuses. They were states away from the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen, that weapon stash, her books.. anything she had that could've protected her or evened the odds should anyone downstairs have caught wind that she was alone in the city, and taken their chances trying to catch her off guard.

He had to stay.. to keep her safe.

But deep down, he knows better. Those hex bags kept her invisible-- nobody had any idea where she was; wouldn't have been able to sniff her out if they tried and at the moment Caim and the others' priorities were more focused on the bigger picture. As satisfying as it would've been to take the last remaining Remington out for them, they wouldn't be seeking her out. The only thing that was keeping him in that hotel room with her was his desire to be there.

She'd just handed the excuse to him, by asking for him to stay.

Roman's dark orbs linger down on her when he goes to pass by, his shoulder brushing against her own as he strides over to one of the beds to sit down on the foot of it with an exhale. Unsure of what to do then. It would've been less uncomfortable gargling holy water than it was trying to do this little song and dance, pretend like what was going on wasn't going on.

"Should've picked up some cards.. or.. Monopoly or somethin'.." he finally mumbles, sniffing and lifting his gaze to her. His head of unruly hair shakes once as his gaze flicks away from her again; untrusting that his own eyes wouldn't wander all over her, palms spreading down his thighs as he shifts on the mattress.

And he knew.. of course he fucking knew that she was treading a line seeing if he would finally cross over it. But she was the only thing he was terrified of.. and never for the reasons it would've made sense for him to be. He'd have never given her that knife she had tucked away in her bag if that were the case. It would be more likely Hell froze over before he ever allowed himself to give into the temptation she was offering him. No matter how badly he may have wanted to. The dynamic was already a complicated mess as was.. he couldn't imagine how much more complicated it would be if he did.

'You're walking a very dangerous path, Roman.' Jericho's words echo in his mind with warning. God knew he was.

"Can't help but keep wonderin'.." he finally starts again, any sense of amusement he'd held before drained from his voice entirely as his dark orbs stay planted on the warped wooden floor of that seedy hotel room. "..once this ends.. however it does.." he pauses in thought, his gaze finally lifting in search of her.

"..say we kill Lilith- Caim.. stop the domino effect should they start breakin' these seals. Lucifer never pops the cage.. or the war happens, and humanity wins.." he lists through scenarios, shrugging at her a bit as his gaze lingers up at her and shifts.

"You ain't the only hunter, Camilla.." he says finally, a warning in his tone- a knowing one. "Dean.. I don't know any way of savin' him.. even if that's the case, there's just as many hunters like Dean out there as there are like you, like Sam.." he explains in an even tone, swallowing as he stares up at her from the end of the bed.

" ..once the behemoth is out the way.. we both know who the targets are gonna be and other hunters aren't gonna be so understandin' that we ain't all the same." He exhales slowly as he watches her, nodding and dropping his gaze again.

He didn't know what he was looking for. Typically it was her looking to him for reassurance and he wasn't even sure that's what this was. More that he was just explaining a valid reason as to why he wouldn't even let himself get close to her- not any closer than he already was. Ever since Jericho jumping down his throat over his priorities it had turned into Roman just.. scrapbooking moments he'd had with her, the seed already having been planted that there was as much an inevitability here as there was with Dean's clock ticking, as there was with this little pissing contest between Hell and the Heavens. And to Roman that inevitability was only going to be harder if he allowed himself to let her in anymore than she already was…

"Likelihood is I'm gonna have to disappear.. once this is over." he says finally, his tone lowering as he swallows again. Not wanting to look up at her again for fear of what he'd find there. The worst part was that it didn't matter if any line was crossed or not. Camilla had crept into that godforsaken organ in his chest like a thief in the night and he already knew that he wouldn't be the same afterward. She'd made him feel the closest to human as he'd ever get again.

He didn't know if that was better, or worse in the end of things.'

[hellsrebellion]

" ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿᶦᶻᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵇʸ ᵗ ᵒ ᵘ ᶜ ʰ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ᵇʸ ˢᵐᵉˡˡ; ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉʳ ᵇˡᶦⁿᵈ , ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵉᵗ ˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉ ᵃ ʳ ᵗ ʰ ( ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉʳ ᶦⁿ ᵈ ᵉ ᵃ ᵗ ʰ, ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ )"