Cherry Pie

Haunted Asylum

[Rayne]

"Dean, stop breathing down my neck," I told him as I was driving the Impala back to Bobby's house. "I'm not going to crash your precious car."

We hadn't even gone a few miles before Dean made me turn around and go back to Bobby's. I was actually a little surprised that he relented and let me drive his car at all, but now I knew that I could pretty much get him to agree to anything with a simple threat to his pie.

"You're driving too close to the center lane," he argued. "An oncoming vehicle can scratch the side."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm driving right in the middle; not too close and not too far. I'm a perfect driver — admit it."

"I will not," he grumbled but sat back in his seat with his arms crossed so I knew that was precisely what he was thinking.

The past twenty-four hours had definitely been a whirlwind, and I still couldn't stop over-analyzing every single one of them. Dean and I, for the most part, lay it all out on the table the previous night. Or at least he did; I still wasn't sure what exactly was going on in my head.

He told me that I was worth it and that he wasn't letting me go, and that may have launched me over the moon with glee. Dean was not a man to throw those kinds of promises around lightly, and it meant more than I could express to hear him say that to me.

And then the two kisses. Ah, the kisses. If I had kept a diary I probably would have written all about them in it — decorating the pages with hearts and countless Mrs. Rayne Winchester signatures. I was still a girl experiencing the thrills of her first real relationships; sue me.

However, I had no clue what all of that meant. Were we dating now? Was Dean my...boyfriend? That sounded weird to even think about, and under no circumstances could I ever force myself to bring the topic up, so I decided that I wanted to put off that particular conversation for as long as possible. Why rock the boat? Besides, I was fairly certain Dean did not do the whole 'boyfriend/girlfriend' thing anyways.

We were almost at Bobby's when Dean's cellphone rang. He pulled it out from his inside jacket pocket and glanced at the caller ID before answering. "Sam?"

A muffled voice responded on the other end. Dean then proceeded to do a lot of confirming noises and went through the Five W's; Who, What, Where, When, and Why, before turning to me. "How's your injury?" he asked me, tilting the phone away from his mouth.

Glancing over at him, I shifted in my seat, assessing the stab wound with the movement. "A bit sore," I answered truthfully. "But manageable."

He nodded his head and brought the receiver back to his mouth. "We'll be there."

"What did he want?" I asked Dean after he hung up.

"Sam and Bobby found a case for us. Bobby needs to come back here, but Sam asked us to meet him in Rockford, Illinois to help him with it." 

"What's the case?" I asked as I pulled into Bobby's junkyard.

"Haunting at the deserted Roosevelt Asylum."

"Sounds fun," I commented, always being equally terrified and interested in abandoned mental asylums.

"Sam's going to go talk to the son of the guy who ran the place and see what information he can get on it while he waits for us to get there."

"When do we leave?"

"I want to check on your ribs again and put on some fresh bandages and then we can head out."

"Can I drive?" I grinned at him.

Dean looked over at me. "Am I bleeding?" he asked, his eyebrows scrunched up in that way that let me know he was wondering why I even bothered asking him that.