Cherry Pie

Dean's Revelations

[Dean]

I concentrated on weaving the needle in and out of Rayne's slashed upper torso so that I wouldn't go crazy thinking about everything that just happened. In the span of just fifteen minutes, Rayne died on me, I got yanked from the back of the car and was teleported to some sort of purgatory/heaven cubicle, met an angel, found out that I was appointed by none other than the Big Guy upstairs to watch over the nearly dead girl in my arms, and was forced to promise to keep her from going all batshit evil. 

That much information was enough to drive anyone mad. I was mildly surprised I hadn't yet ripped out my hair, torn off my clothes, and run out of the motel room; naked and screaming like a lunatic.

After Sam checked us in, I carried Rayne to our room and placed her on one of the beds. She still hadn't woken up, but at least now I knew she wasn't dying. She stirred and moaned a little as I stitched her up, so I tried to be as gentle as I could. The fact that I had never been as careful when stitching up Sam or myself did not escape me. I could've argued that I was just afraid that if I hurt Rayne, Castiel would show up and damn my ass to hell, but if I were being honest with myself, I'd begun to associate Rayne's pain with my own. 

It was somewhat similar to the way I felt whenever Sam was hurt, but a lot more...well, sort of screwed up, actually. It was like every single time I pierced the needle through Rayne's skin, I was piercing it through my own. Except somehow it hurt even more. I didn't understand these new and confusing feelings. I didn't know how to deal with them.

Cheesy songs and romantic comedies would've claimed that what I was feeling was love, but I wasn't convinced. I did  feel strongly for Rayne; I didn't want any harm to come to her, I unconsciously included her in all of my future plans, and, yes, I had, on several occasions, broken my 'no chick-flick moments' rule for her — but that didn't necessarily mean that I loved her. Did it? I wasn't totally oblivious and stubborn; I wasn't going to deny the intensity of my feelings for her, but I'd never been in love with anyone before. A part of me had always thought that if I ever did fall in love, it would hit me like a freight train. A train that would make my feelings glaringly obvious.

In reality, it was more akin to being gradually submerged by water. It didn't feel like drowning — not in the panicky, suffocating way, anyways. It felt like the water had become a much greater necessity for me than air. I wanted to be entirely consumed by it; I welcomed it! I liked how it flooded my whole world — how it made me feel almost weightless.

I never expected love to come slowly.

Not liking the implications of that confession, I immediately ignored what I'd just admitted to myself and threw my attention back into taping up Rayne's wound. Sam thankfully came back then and I relaxed a bit, grateful that I wouldn't have to confront my feelings for the next little while.

He was carrying a container of fast food and a pharmacy bag with the painkillers which I told him to get for Rayne. Castiel may have fixed her internal injuries, but I knew better than most how painful it was to recover from a stab wound. I was even willing to give Rayne a few pills and dope her up myself if it meant that she wouldn't have to hurt.

"She still asleep?" Sam asked, nodding at Rayne as he set everything down on the table.

"For now."

"Okay, then that means you can tell me what happened."

Sighing, I lowered Rayne's shirt back over her bandaged stomach and gestured to the door. "Let's go outside," I told Sam, not wanting Rayne to accidentally overhear anything in case she woke up.

"So?" he prompted when we stepped outside the room.

Quietly closing the door behind us, I turned to face my expectant brother. "Well, turns out angels and heaven are real."