Actions

Work Header

The Devil Went Down to New Mexico

Work Text:

Anne Marie knew that there was more out there in the world than people knew about. She waitressed for a little truck stop diner in the New Mexico desert. Nothing but road and sand for miles produced many interesting characters. She rarely, if ever, saw any face more than once. An endless stream of people who would stick out in a crowd, if the diner was ever crowded, walked through those doors day in and day out. She had seen things she couldn't begin to understand. 

There have been people that she wasn't sure were people. Maybe it was that their eyes were just a bit too big, or maybe their skin, which was just a little too translucent. Maybe it was that their appearance seemed to shift slightly every other time you glanced their way. There had been folks who, no matter how long she looked at them for, she couldn't describe what they looked like. Maybe their voice was too melodic, and were those scales? There were people who’s nails or teeth were too sharp, and people whose eyes sparkled. There were those she was sure were demons, eyes black one second and normal the next. 

Sometimes she would look out into the horizon and see distant shapes, silhouettes that could be people if you used your imagination. She could hear them at night, screams that would turn to howls. The sounds that most people would be concerned about, but that the locals know are best to ignore. If you listen too long, you might just be tempted to investigate. People would walk into the desert and she would never see them again. She didn't grow up here; she learned that the locals knew best. 

There weren't regulars. People that passed through always wanted to be gone. The only people that she saw more than once were her coworkers. Yet, there was one exception to this rule. There was a giant of a man who stopped in once every few weeks. He always wore black suits. She had never seen him dress in anything else.  He would always just… appear. She had never seen him walk through the front doors. She knew he was there when the temperature in the diner would drop. Suddenly he was just sitting in booth six. She never asked him about it. 

He was pleasant, always happy to make conversation with her. She enjoyed their talks, even if he was strange. When he was alone, he always ordered a salad and water. He would eat his food, drink his water, and disappear. He always left cash on the table, including a generous tip. 

When he had company they were always nervous. They ranged from slightly on edge to the brink of a full-blown panic attack. Their eyes would turn black sometimes. She looked the other way. 

She had learned that his name was Sam. She was certain that her only regular customer was the Devil. 

“Sir, I-I meant no disrespect-” she heard his company for the day stutter as she bussed a nearby table. 

“I'm sure.” His tone was icy. “Because you seemed very worried about disrespecting me when you were spreading rumors in court.” 

“I-I-” 

“Or when you insulted my second in command.” 

“It wasn't-” 

“Or when you reported to Lilith about me.” The other man’s mouth snapped shut. He swallowed. 

“My lord, I swear that I-” 

“Would never. Yes, you mentioned that. However, you have proven that you would .” Sam’s hand shot out to grab the other man, who whimpered. “I brought you here because I wanted to avoid any more rumors flying around in court. However, seeing as my suspicions have been proven correct, we will have to return now.” 

“I'm sorry,” the man pleaded. Sam shook his head.

“You're not. You just know the penalty for high treason.” The room warmed slowly. She knew that if she turned to look at them they would no longer be there. Sure enough, when she turned they were gone. On the table sat a ten and five, an extremely good tip considering they didn't order anything. She shrugged to herself, grabbing the money off the table. 

He wasn't always threatening his company, though. 

“Look, all I'm saying is that there are a lot of omens around here,” the man said into the phone. He lowered his voice. “I would handle it, but everything about this screams ‘extremely powerful demon’. I need to know if it’s one of yours.” The temperature dropped. She was glad for it; the AC was malfunctioning today. 

“That would be me,” Sam said suddenly. The silverware on the table clinked as the man’s knees made contact with the old wood. He winced. 

“Jesus, you're worse than Cas,” the shorter man hissed. “And… what? You?” 

“Yes, Dean, me. I happen to like this diner.” She took that as her cue to approach. 

“Hiya, Sam,” she greeted with a smile. He returned it, dimples flashing. “The usual for you?” At his nod she turned to his companion. “Anything for you?” 

“Uh- yeah. Coffee, black.” He seemed surprised. 

“You got it,” she said, leaving them to their conversation. When she returned Dean was just shaking his head. 

“I just don't get it, I thought you hated places like this.” Dean gestured. Sam shrugged. 

“There’s decent salad and discretion. What more could I want?” She set the salad down in front of Sam, who thanked her. She left them once again, moving into the kitchen. 

“Mr. Suit is back?” The question wasn't a surprise; they all knew of him. Especially on the days when the AC was broken. She caught the cook’s crooked smile out of the corner of her eye and she felt her face heat up. She was glad that blush didn't stand out on her dark skin. 

“Yeah.” She managed to get the word out without her voice cracking. She was pretty sure that their new cook wasn't entirely human; that didn't make her any less charming. It may have made her more so, in fact. Not that she had any proof that the cook wasn't human; just a feeling. 

Cook showed up here the same way everyone did. She wandered in one day, looking for something that paid. Considering the lack of people willing to work at a place like this, it was no surprise she got the job. Anne wasn't sure who did the hiring. 

“Good, maybe he could fix the air while he’s here,” Cook muttered under her breath. Anne laughed. 

“I’ll ask.” 

When she returned to the table Dean was gone. She wasn't particularly surprised; he seemed like he was there on business. No business, no need to stay. Sam was still picking at his salad. 

“Do you have any siblings, Anne?” The question was quiet. She debated telling the truth for a moment. 

“Yes.” She refilled his glass. Long, slender fingers tapped on the table for a moment before they wrapped around the glass. “A younger sister.” Sam nodded. 

“If she’s anything like her older sister I’m sure she’s wonderful.” It wasn't an attempt at flirting. He said it as though it was a fact. She smiled.

The sound of a bell rang from the direction of the front door. She ignored it. They didn't have a bell above the entrance. 

“Yeah, she is.” A smile tugged at his lips. She left him to it again. She didn't even notice his departure; the oppressive heat didn't return full force even when she stepped out of the kitchen to find that he was gone. The AC was working as though it hadn't quit on them a few days prior. 

She shrugged to herself as she picked up the tip from his table. If the Devil wanted to pay her well and fix her AC, she wasn't going to complain about it.