Cherry Pie

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[Dean]

"Mornin'!" Bobby greeted loudly when he heard Rayne coming down the stairs before she even had the chance to appear in the kitchen.

She was hungry for the second morning in a row, which I took to be a good sign. If she had her appetite, then things were looking up. Especially now that...well, things just had to look up.

"Good morning, Bobby." She then came over and gave me a tight hug. "Dean."

Ever since she'd lost her mom, Rayne has been hugging people a lot more. Well, mostly just Bobby and I; but she never really used to be a hugger. Now, whenever I saw her wrap her arms around the old man and close her eyes, it looked as if she just wanted to assure herself that he was still there. 

"How do pancakes sound?" I asked her.

"You know I can't say no to pancakes."

"Good," I said, relieved that she wasn't fighting me on it like she had been all week. "Sit down, they're almost ready."

"Okay, just let me get my caffeine fix first."

Bobby chuckled. "Sorry, darlin' — the coffee's all gone."

"What do you mean 'gone'?" She whirled on him with panicked eyes as the words sank in. "Where did it go?"

"Well, I reckon you drank it all. Haven't had to go shopping for a refill in nearly two years, and then here you show up and single-handedly strip me clean of my supply in just under three weeks."

"Oops." Rayne got that adorably guilty look on her face as stuck a thumbnail between her teeth and slid down onto her chair. " Sorry, Bobby."

He waved a hand at her in dismissal, clearly not upset about it in the least. "Forget it."

"Dean and I will go out after breakfast and restock your kitchen. Promise."

Bobby studied her with a twinkle in his eye. "You sure you can make it all the way till then?"

She rolled her eyes and turned around in her seat as I set the plate of freshly hot pancakes onto the table. "Whatever you guys may think, I'm not an addict."

"Cherry Pie, I distinctly remember you asking us on more than one occasion if they make IV drips for coffee."

"Yeah, because it's a genius invention, not because I wanted one."

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

She made a face at me and reached forward to swipe a pancake. I sat down in front of her and just watched her eat. Actually, Bobby and I both just watched her eat. Her upbeat attitude, her flushed cheeks; she almost looked like her old self. Almost. I still noticed the small changes. Even on good days, she'd retreat back into herself quickly when she thought no one was watching. Her quirky side also didn't come out as often — she was just generally more reserved.

And she didn't sing anymore. That was the hardest thing for me to see. Prior to all this, the only prompt she needed to burst out in song was one unintentional utterance of a lyric. Nowadays, whenever the music played, she just let the notes float right past her. I hoped it would come back. I hoped that one day soon, Rayne would sing again.

Still, progress was progress, and I was surprised that she'd come as far as she did in the short time that had gone by. I shouldn't have been surprised, however; she was always resilient. Never prone to long bouts of self-pity or moping...she was reasonable...she was an optimist by nature. Which was why I kept reminding myself that she would be just fine. And her road to recovery might even shorten with the recent developments. I still wasn't sure how she would take the news. I still wasn't sure how I myself was taking the news.