REVIVE ▸ d. winchester [2] ✔

Chapter 25

Since we had made progress in our trek back to the impala, and since we were a good distance away from everyone else, I decide an explanation as to why Sam, Bobby, and I were here today is reasonable. After all, I can't even imagine the baffled thoughts running through her mind. Some answers could help her, in more ways than one.

"It's an angel blade," I explain as I reach into my jacket. Finding the hilt, I pull it out for her to see. The shiny metal glints in the sunlight. 

She reaches out and grabs it gently, looking at it with curious eyes. "So it kills angels," she says, more as a statement than a question.

"For starters," I tell her with a nod of my head. "This one is special, though." 

Looking at the blade, I could tell Jackie was intrigued. I remember seeing an angel blade for the first time, holding it for the first time and thinking of the power it held. The weapon opened up new doors for hunters, yet not all knew they existed, as Jackie must've hadn't.

"Angel blades work great against angels. Archangels, not so much," I explain. "So, with help from an old friend, we found a spell that could make this blade into one that could kill an archangel. It took some special ingredients, but we did it." 

"Special ingredients?" She asks. "Like what?"

"For starters, we needed the usual stuff: angelica root and mace. But, among other things, we needed the grace of the angel we want to kill. So, we needed Azrael's grace."

Jackie looks down at the blade skeptically, as if judging whether or not the spell we used seems legitimate. "And you got the grace from..." 

Her voice trails off, but I know she's remembering the horrible hours she spent in a chair, waiting as Cas extracted Azrael's grace from the mark in her neck. "We used all of it," I answer. "So this is our one shot. We're not going to mess this up."

Knowing this blade could kill an archangel, Jackie looks down at it differently. A new interest sparks in her eyes, gears turning in her head. "You were going to kill Azrael," she realizes, looking up at me. 

"Yeah," I sigh. A rush of failure suddenly rushes over me, followed by guilt for leaving Bobby and Sam, even Cas and Gabriel behind in that bloodbath. "But that was before I saw you."

Jackie's eyes soften as she hands the blade back to me. She watches closely as I tuck it back into it's spot in my jacket, hiding it away for future use. I'm not sure when exactly that will be, but waiting seems like the best option for now. We have something much more special in our grasp now, and she's worth the wait. Azrael will soon notice her disappearance if he hasn't already, and when that moment comes, we need to be far away from here.

I zip up my coat before looking at her, expecting her to be ready to keep moving. But her feet stay planted in the snow only a few feet away from mine. The silence between us is vast and heavy, unspoken words preventing us from moving on.

"You were dead."

Jackie grimaces at the thought, but nods through it. "I watched you die," I say, my confusion, my disbelief, and my incredulity finally catching up to me. I needed to know how she was here, how she was even alive. "What happened?"

"I know," she whispers. She looks away from me for a moment, looking at the ground. "He used me, Dean. I've killed so many things, so many people, and I couldn't even..." With that, she stops talking and finally looks back up at me. 

I don't let her try to explain any further. Stepping forward, I take her back into my arms, tighter than ever before. My head rests next to hers, and somehow- somehow- she manages to still have that feint yet distinct smell to her hair as it brushes against my nose. It's simple and sweet, reminding me of how much there was to miss of her.

"God, I missed you so much," I breathe out quietly. Jackie's hands, resting gently at my waist, tighten in comfort. As she moves closer, she turns her head so that we stand pressed against each other, our foreheads resting on one another's. Only a moment passes before she looks up at me, so many different emotions swimming in her eyes.

"Earlier, you said I was one of the good guys." There's a certain tone in her voice that I can't place. It sounds hesitant, even doubtful, but her face doesn't show either of those. Aside from her eyes, to my surprise, she appears assured.

"That's because you are," I repeat. "Nothing you've done can make me believe otherwise."

Jackie smiles. It wasn't one of happiness or relief, and it didn't reach her eyes, but I hoped my words would begin to cut away at the guilt she was surely suffering from on the inside. Whatever she was thinking- whatever thoughts were keeping her from flashing her genuine smile and letting her eyes shine- they must have been shoved to the side as Jackie reached up with a hand and placed it delicately on my face.

Brushing her fingers along my cheek, she doesn't even try to create the effect she has on my body and on my mind. My heart races unnaturally fast, and my mind stops tossing about thoughtless notions. I only look down at her to meet her calm gaze, not ready for the catch of my breath when she reaches up and places her lips on mine.

All coherent thought goes out the window as I close my eyes and let her be so close to me. Her lips are gentle against mine, but there is no hesitance in her movements. It doesn't take long before I'm returning the motions, putting every ounce of the angst of missing her, of the urge to have her back, into the kiss. With her hand grazing along my neck, moving me closer and closer, I can't even think about a single thing but her. 

She leaves me speechless.

As she pulls away, only enough to leave our lips barely touching, I move with her, following her as she returns her two feet fully to the ground. I practically tower over her, yet I am in no way superior; we've never been more equals than now, together. 

My senses slowly return to me, waking me up as blood rushes through my ears in a pounding rush and as my fingertips take in the sensation of her waist against them. Her own fingers are cold against my neck, running through my hair softly, but the feeling doesn't bother me at all. It's perfect. Flawless. 

Jackie slowly opens her eyes. Only mere inches away from mine, I can see dark imperfections in her soft browns, details I've never taken notice of before. With her eyes always so light, so soft, the darkness in them catches me off guard.

But, in this moment, the random spots dancing across her irises aren't the only things that change how I look at her. Something in her eyes, in her gaze, isn't right. There's a wave of disapproval washing through them, a sight that causes my heart to drop at the thought of what we just did.

"Jackie?"

She doesn't back away, but instead stays close enough as to where each word she pronounces brings her lips across my own. "You're wrong, Dean."

"There are no good guys," she says. "There never are." With that, Jackie drives one of her knees straight up into my stomach.