Cherry Pie

Pranks and Handcuffs

[Dean]

Several days later, we were staying at a different motel a state over. Rayne's wound seemed to have been healing for good, but she took every opportunity she could to remind Sam that it could've been healed already if he hadn't of shot her.

I'd made a mental note that injured Rayne equaled cranky Rayne and that, in those cases, painkillers were a necessary evil. She'd been taking one or two of them every day since the Roosevelt Asylum, but that morning I finally took them away from her. An unforeseen side effect of that, however, was that the more clearheaded she'd gotten, the more determined she became to get Sam back.

It all started with her sneaking in and flushing the toilet while he was in the shower, then she unscrewed the saltshaker in the diner and proudly watched Sam dump all of the salt onto his eggs, and just that morning she put hot sauce into his coffee. He quickly started to second-guess every move he made before he made it. It was a little juvenile of Rayne, but it was entertaining to watch her giggle hysterically like a little kid each and every time Sam fell for it.

That afternoon we interviewed a warehouse employee who said he witnessed his co-worker die getting buried under heavy boxes that flew from the shelf and across the room all by themselves. Sitting in the parking lot of our motel afterwards, Sam wouldn't get out of the car until he completed a visual surveillance of his surroundings.

Rayne huffed from the backseat. "Sam, what, you think I hired someone to run you over in the parking lot?"

He didn't break his concentration. "I wouldn't put it past you."

"Well, I didn't," she said. "So can we go inside now? I promise no one's going to hit you with their car."

He turned around then, looking at her with scrutiny. "Promise?"

"Yes, Sam." She rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't lie to you."

As she said that, I could've sworn her eyes darted to me for a second. I was hoping she'd forgotten about what Sam said at the asylum, but I knew better than to undermine her perceptiveness. Just because she wasn't saying anything, didn't mean she wasn't thinking it.

Not that I would ever admit it, but I could kind of see where rage-induced Sam was coming from. Ever since meeting Rayne, we had been a little preoccupied with getting her adjusted to the hunter's life and figuring out the connection between her and I. But if anything, we knew more about Yellow-Eyes now than we did before.

It seemed that Azazel, as Castiel called him, had a personal relationship with Rayne, which meant that he would no doubt show up again. He also must've figured out that Rayne was keeping company with us by now, so sooner or later he would come for either her or for Sam. I just hoped that when that time came, our dad would be with us.

As well, there was the matter of Sam accusing me of withholding my real feelings for Rayne. Truth be told, I was still trying to figure them out for myself. Was I afraid that once the words were out there, I wouldn't be able to take them back? Maybe. Did that make them any less true? No.

Sam finally got out of the car and Rayne and I followed. He stood several feet in front of our motel room door, eyes dashing back and forth, looking for any signs of an impending attack. I watched in amused anticipation as Rayne crept up behind him and doused his back with ice-cold water from a plastic bottle. It completely drenched his shirt and ran down into his jeans.

He cried out, jumping forward to get away from the cold liquid, but Rayne had somehow managed to empty the whole thing on him. Fuming, he spun around and tried to grab her, however she was quicker than that. She dashed towards the motel, flung open the door to our room, and ran inside.