Descent

The haze around my line of sight was probably normal for the amount of blood that I had lost, but then again, I wasn't exactly thinking about that at the moment, I was thinking that I was fucking cold and tired and all I wanted to do was sleep. NOT a good thing.

The motel door was heavier than I remembered but so were my feet, and when I finally got it open, it took all I had to get in and close it behind me. Leaning against the wooden frame, I dropped the bag that managed to somehow stay on my shoulder for the trip in but the instant it hit the floor, the bloodied machete clanged against the chair leg. It shouldn't be that loud right?

"Ugh, fuck me, this is not good."

My eyes rolled as the room tilted a bit but I managed to stay on my feet until I got to the edge of the bed, one that I nearly missed as I sat down on it, rolled onto the side that I was putting the most pressure on and felt the light around me fading. It was mid-day, it shouldn't have been that dark in there, blood loss will do that to you.

With a shuddered breath in, fighting against what I thought might be broken or at least fractured and bruised ribs, I tugged the phone from my pocket and searched around for the last contact I had made. It was three days ago, and it wasn't even a real contact, it was more of a missed call. One of them checking in on me, always checking in on me but I didn't care, it made it easier to find him and with an exhale I pressed the call button, and then the speaker to listen as it rang through.

"Rayna?" Sam Winchester's voice was the same as it had always been, deep, concerned but nothing that ever turned me on like it did at that moment. Crazy reaction to the blood loss maybe? "Rayna where have you been? I tried calling you three days ago."

"Sam," it came out like a needy whisper, a breathless sigh and I felt my eyes drift shut. "I need your help."

"Where are you? What's going on?" He questioned more and it all seemed mumbled but I knew that was just my body saying Fuck you and wanting nothing more than to shut down.

"It's bad, Sam, really bad." I managed to reply but I knew I didn't have much longer. "Wichita, Kansas, Motor Lodge, room 312, Sam, I need you."

"Yeah, we're on our way," he replied, the tone of his voice was either really pissed off or really concerned, I couldn't tell but I knew one thing, Dean was probably packing his bags and grabbing the keys as the younger one spoke. "Don't go to sleep, Ray."

"Can't help it." I blinked furiously to keep the focus but it wasn't working, and pulled my legs up further into a fetal position on the bed. "Just hurry."

"Hey, Ray," Dean snapped over the phone, "you stay with us, we'll be there soon. You get me, you stay here."

"Yeah, Dean, I get it." I managed but that was it, the fight was over, the darkness was winning.

"Ray?" Sam's voice was powerful, but not enough for me to hold off. "Ray, can you hear me?"

And the last thing I heard before the endless darkness took over was Dean's rough tone, "Son of a Bitch!"

I don't know how long I was out for, didn't know what day it was, or even what time, but I blinked away the sedation, tried to fight through the heaviness and felt the chill run over my skin. I managed to clear my dry throat but that was when I heard the noises. The endless, steady beeping of monitors, almost made out the drip of the IV, but that was when the bright white light seared through my vision.

I know I moaned, how couldn't I, everything hurt, right down to my toenails and I slowly opened my eyes against the brightness. A woman pulled the penlight away from me and I was able to make out a silhouette before her features came into view.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked in a low, dry voice, not really caring but I know she wasn't someone I could have possibly met before.

"Doctor Reyes, and you are one lucky woman," she replied and moved towards the small computer that sat beside the bed. "Contusions over most of your body, three broken ribs, two bruised, cuts down your arms, and a large gash that required thirty-two stitches to your side. What exactly were you doing to get those Rayna?"

"Paddleball," I replied sarcastically, "nasty sport, the losers are real nutcases."

Well, I thought it was funny, but the doctor just gave me an exasperated expression before she stood. "Well, you're patched up as much as I can do for you. You needed a blood transfusion, lost most of that to before the boys found you. Why didn't you drive to the emergency room?"

"Have you seen my car?" I tried to grin, but it still came out as completely sarcastic, "people would have killed me and taken off with it before I made it to the door. It's a classic you know. Pristine condition."

"Ah-huh, well, you've been in here for about four days, nearly lost you twice and I think your boys have scared most of my staff away, so here's the plan. Get better and then get out." Her eyes narrowed at me, "Hunters in my hospital make for easy targets, I think we've had enough with the ones in the hall, now that you're awake, I don't really need any more trouble."

"Gotcha, Doc," I agreed and relaxed on the bed but that was when I smelled it, just the light scent of sulfur in the air before I turned, focusing on her eyes as they flashed black. "Christo."

She snapped back and stood from the bedside, snarling at me before she left the room. My vision managed to focus on the two that now entered the room. Sam Winchester, six-foot plus and all muscle moved in like a cat despite his size and the way that his unruly chestnut hair moved. His hazel eyes locked on me, running over all the bandages and I heard him sigh, stopping at the end of the bed.

Yep, he was pissed but it was the other one that made his way towards me that had me shifting. Dean was six-foot as well, thick everywhere, but solid and those bright green eyes were laced with fury, and concern as he stepped up beside the bed and leaned over, his fingers touching my cheek before he stared down at me, bright eyes connecting with mine.

"Scared us," he said softly but I knew what he meant, it was supposed to be a reprimand, but that didn't happen at all, he just sounded… scared. "A vamp nest, alone? What possessed you do to that?"

"Do most of my hunts alone, Dean, not anything new or unusual," I huffed as I tried to sit up, but the large hand on my shoulder had me flat against the bed. I took a deep breath, obeying the silent order and shifted my gaze to Sam. "Thanks for coming."

"You're lucky we did, you almost didn't make it to the hospital." Sam crossed his arms, shifted his weight and looked as if he could go on but he didn't. "We're going to have to get you out of here soon, like Reyes said, not a good place for hunters."

"Then why bring me?" I shrugged and glanced between the boys, "especially when you have a demon doctor working on me."

"This is a safe place, Reyes is one of the good ones." Sam tried to reason with me but I shook my head. I hated demons, with a passion and for personal reasons but he knew all about those and still let her even touch me. "We'll get you out and to the bunker. You can rest up there."

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled and closed my eyes. So much for being well, I felt exhausted just from the small amount of time I had been talking to them. Sam was just too far away and I didn't like it. Granted, we had split on bad terms, the argument that sent me packing was one for the record books but still, too far away, and I did my best to lift my arm, stretch my fingers out for him and just as the blackness descended, I felt his large fingers wrap around mine, as Dean brushed his hand over my cheek.

A week… it had been a week since the hospital, a week of slow recovery and listening to the way things worked in the bunker. Dean would check in while I was awake, bring me breakfast, keep the coffee hot, make sure I didn't need anything before they disappeared on some small hunt or another. At the moment, they seemed to be searching for Cas, but Sam would only come in when I was sleeping, or stand outside the door to listen. Apparently we weren't over the argument, at least not in his eyes.

I had forgiven him weeks ago, but still there was something that he was hanging onto that wouldn't let him go and that in itself seemed to be festering under the surface. I was up and moving about the room, tired of lying there, tired of waiting and during a quiet night, one where Dean had passed out, or was deep in his music, and Sam was either in his room, eyes glued to his Game of Thrones marathon, I decided that it was time to explore.

Dressed in a pair of boy shorts and a tanktop, not to mention a thick pair of ankle socks that helped keep the cold concrete of the floor from hitting every nerve in my body, I wrapped a flannel around my shoulders and headed out. The shirt was Sam's, one he had left behind when he had watched over me one night, but I had kept it, tucked it under my pillow because it smelled just like him and I needed that comfort.

So, left or right? That seemed to be my only concern as I left the room but once I turned the corner, there was no question as to where I was going. Left took me past Dean's room and I was right, he was lying on his bed, arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed with the large, noise canceling earphones on, plugged into whatever player he happened to have with him, and I smiled before I slipped by.

Sam's room was down the hall and to the right, another corner I turned and from the sound coming from behind the door, it was more like a Harry Potter marathon that Games, but that itself made me smile as I continued on. His door was closed, locked shut and there was no way I was knocking on it.

The bathroom was just a little further down the hall and the majority of me thought that it would be fantastic to stand under a hot shower head for a little while, but the stitches on my side told me otherwise. It had been long enough, they could get wet, and I wasn't in the mood to argue with the part of my brain that was screaming at me. My mind was made up and I slowly moved in.

One side of the room was the glass-walled stand-up shower, the toilet right in the middle and as small counter with a sink took up the one directly across. A linen closet supplied me with several towels and some shampoo, probably the kind Sam hides from Dean on a regular basis but that was what I grabbed before turning on the spray.

The flannel rested on the closed cover of the toilet, the shorts and tank came next and slowly I started to peel away the tap, looking down at the new trophy I carried. Another new scare to share with friends I didn't have. I stood facing the mirror, my skin pale, the dark purple under my eyes was the only indication left that I had lost so much blood but the stitches were perfect and it wasn't as long as I remembered.

Licking my dry lips, trying to keep the memories out, I ran a hand over the skin around it, not touching the actual injury and sighed as I finally turned on the spray, letting it warm up before I stepped in.

God, something as simple as water should never feel so good.

I let it cascade over me, wash away the sins of the day, or week, whichever ran deeper and slowly washed my hair, taking in the scent of the man I ached for. We had never been together, Sam and I, there was just too much friction there to cross that line, but if I said I never thought about him, about his hands on my body, I would be lying, so as the soap ran from my body, I closed my eyes and let those thoughts take over.

Slipping my hands over my breasts, I could only imagine what his would feel like, kneading them gently before pinching the peaks of my nipples, something that got only a sigh from me since I had to remember they were just down the hall. With a wicked grin, I traveled lower and slipped between my thighs, rubbing the bundle of nerves there as I slowly built up every emotion that I needed to let go and when I did, when I finally careened over the edge, I let it out in a shuddered moan before placing my head against the cool, wet, tiled wall and felt the hot tears start to flow.

Yeah, I was strong, I hide everything well, but in that moment, I realized how close I had come to death, and mortality struck me. Every hunter knew that their end would come to them in some bloody fashion, but you just go with it when you live the life because if you stopped to think about it, if you really wanted to let it in, this was what you would get. A moment in time where you realize you're only human and death was inevitable.

I stood there for a long time, letting the spray hit my back before I calmed my nerves enough to move, and shut down the water. Taking the towel on the seat, I wrapped one around my hair and the other around my body, slowly drying off as I hummed to myself. I was caught in thought, not paying attention to the world around me, letting the noise of the music in my head take over, that was until the door swung open and I stood up straight, towel in hand but nothing covering me and met glares with the younger brother.

Sam looked me over, his jaw tight, expression full of hunger, but his eyes traveled down to the stitches and he shifted where he stood, one hand on the doorknob one hand on the frame.

"In or out," I barked and watched those hazel eyes darken.

"What?" It was as if I had slapped him when his gaze came back on me.

"In or out, you're letting all the hot air out by standing there with it open." I growled, not intentional but I was cold. Sam nodded, swallowed hard and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He pressed himself against the wall, hands behind his back and I went back to drying off. "What's going on, Sam?"

"I," he stopped for a moment, "I went to check on you and you were gone."

"You mean you came into spy on me while I was sleeping," I grinned and dropped the towel, pulling the tank over my head before I looked up at him, seeing his eyes stare up at the ceiling. Smiling, I grabbed the shorts and slid them on before I removed the towel that held my hair and dropped them both in the hamper. "You can admit it, you know, I won't be mad."

"Okay," he nodded and brought that gaze to me, "I watch you sleep."

"Not creepy at all," I smirked as I moved towards the sink and hopped up on the counter, but he just exhaled, loudly. "I'm not saying it to piss you off."

"I'm not," he said quickly and pushed away from the wall. He came closer, nudged my legs apart with just the way he pressed against them, and stood there, my thighs touching his hips. Looking down at the injured side of my body, he reached out, taking the end of my shirt before he locked contact with those eyes. "I'm not pissed at you, I'm concerned and I didn't want to bring up what happened before while you were healing." I leaned back on my hands as he rolled the tank up, inspecting the stitch job before he reached over and slid a drawer open. He took out gauze and tape before shutting it again and standing straight to face me. I closed my eyes, letting his hands move over my skin and enjoying every minute of it, but it was when the back of his hand lightly brushed the side of my breast that peeked out from under the take that I moaned and he stepped back. "Ray?"

I opened my eyes just as quickly as he said my name, but the look on his face was a mix of confusion and lust and he swiftly stepped back. I jumped down, pushed past him and made a beeline for my room. I couldn't want him that much, not after what I had said to him and with a slam of my door, I closed my eyes and leaned back against it.

Moments passed, actual moments before there was a knock on it, maybe it wasn't his hand, maybe it was his head as he whispered my name.

"Go away, Sam." I muttered, clenching my fists at my side. "Please, just go away."

"Let me in, Ray," he pleaded.

"No," I sighed because letting him in would cause one of two things, falling in bed with him, or falling more in love with him than I already was, and pining for him for four years had already gotten me in enough trouble. "Just… go."

"Rayna," he took a deep breath, I could hear it so close to my door. "Listen to me, I'm not going to hurt you."

"I need to go, Sam, I need to just…" I moved from the door, grabbed whatever I could find, which was my clothes stashed in various dresser drawers and packed them in the duffle that sat by the bed. The lock on the door clicked and I turned quickly to look at him, his hands at his side, clenching and unclenching as he went his head down, eyes visible only under that curtain of unruly hair but his chest heaved with every breath. "Sam."

"I need you," he whispered, moving forwards, striding towards me as his hands were suddenly on me, one around my waist, the other tangled in my hair, pulling me towards him.

His kiss was demanding on my lips, but no matter how much I pushed at him, he wouldn't let me go, and I fought with him, pressing my hands against his chest as his tongue split my lips, driving deep between them, tasting and fighting for room in my mouth. I hummed against his, but brought my heel down on the top of his bare foot.

He growled in pain but let me go as I knocked my own forehead against his and made for the door, yanking it open before heading out into to the vast maze of the Men of Letters bunker. He knew it better than I did, so fumbling down the hallways only led me to one spot, the library. When I couldn't go anywhere else, when what stood between me and freedom was Sam's gigantic body, I felt my breath hitch.

I drew in as much as my bruised and broken ribs would let me but it wasn't enough to not feel the darkness threatening and I raised my hands as he stalked forwards. His eyes were angry, more so than I had ever seen them and I braced myself for anything he would throw at me, which in all honesty was a body that I wanted.

"Don't fight this," he demanded, stopping only an arm's length away, but I shook my head. "I want you, Ray, I love you."

"Don't say that!" I shook my head, Sam would never admit that, even if it were true, those words would never leave his mouth. "Let me go."

"Not until I get what I want." The smirk on his face was strange, evil, menacing and I shook as he closed the distance, in no way fit for fighting and those arms wrapped around me once again, a bruising kiss coming down as his grip in my hair tightened. They moved from my mouth, ghosted over my cheek as his hand slid from my back to wrap around my throat, breath coming quickly into my ear. "You're going to stop teasing me and give me what I want."

"Sam, please." I begged and shifted. Taking a moment to evaluate the situation, I knew there was no way I was getting out of this without causing some real damage to myself, and absolutely none to him. There was only one course of action. "What do you want?"

"You," he said softly, his nose lovingly nuzzling my ear as his lips cascaded down my neck, "all of you, it's all I ever wanted, and you denied me."

I felt him backing me up, one small step at a time until I hit the wall, and then he was kissing me. They say that you can be kissed breathless, and with ribs like mine, it wasn't a joke. I started to see stars as his mouth took over mine, dragging moans and little whimpers from me as his hand moved from my throat and moved ever lower, dipping in between the shorts and my skin.

His thick fingers found my clit before I could catch anything remotely resembling a breath, but it had me clenching his tee-shirt as he hmmed against my lips just enough to send my head spinning. I finally found some relief when he tugged my hair back, pressed his body to mine and slipped in between the wet folds. His eyes were dark, his lips tight and I saw them twitch as the wetness from my heat coated his finger.

"Admit it," he coaxed, "you want me too."

I shook my head, adamant that there was no way I was giving into that mind game, no matter what my body did in response to him. My breaths came in huffs, trying not to overdo the injuries, but that didn't stop my hips from grinding down against the feeling of his fingers thrusting up. He let out a chuckle, something that reverberated in his chest as his teeth scratched along my neck and pulled a moan from me once more.

"You like it rough," he sighed, "why did I peg you for one of those," he teased, adding another finger to the one inside me, stretching me until I rolled my eyes back and let my head thump against the wall. "I can give you rough."

"Stop, Sam," I begged as I dug my nails in, "this isn't what I want."

"This is what I want," he replied, casually, tugging me away from the wall. He took only a few steps, pulling me along as he moved his hands from my heat before slipping behind me as he bent me over the table. His body shielded mine, chest against my back, hand still in my hair as he tugged at the shorts, pulling them down until they were loose enough to fall to the floor.

I felt the pressure on the stitches, which nearly sent me into the darkness, but it was the soft kisses between my shoulder blades that had me breathing as hard as I could. His weight was nothing, as if he were holding back just enough so that he wouldn't hurt me but so I was still pinned there and I spread my fingers wide on the table, arms up by my head.

"I'm going to make you feel everything, Ray, everything that you do to me," he whispered, his breath against my ear as his jeans pushed roughly against my bare ass and I closed my eyes. Most of me wanted to tell him yes, that I wanted it all, but part of me just knew there was something wrong, I just wasn't sure what. His hand released my hair, gliding down between us as he traced my spine. "Don't move, Ray, don't make me hurt you."

Was that a threat or a promise, because right then, I didn't care. His touch was electric and I closed my eyes, trying to relax as his fingers found my folds once more, pressing in gently this time, curling against me. I moved my head, turning to put my forehead to the cool hardwood table and just as he thrust in with two, I felt my hips knock against the edge, drawing out a muffled umph from me.

"Promise me you're going to stay," he whispered, his breath brushing against mine as he nipped at my ear. "I swear I won't hurt you."

"Then stop," I mumbled but he just laughed, a low, deep laugh that went straight to my middle and had me clenching around his fingers.

"Not happening, Princess." He mocked as his hand came up and he pressed me down harder onto the table.

His body shifted and he knew I didn't have the fight in me, but when his lips hit the center of my back, ghosted along my spine, I knew I wouldn't have moved even if I wanted to, I just closed my eyes and let my body drown in the feeling of everything he was doing. His fingers slipped out of me as his lips hit my tailbone, and the hand that held me down followed his kisses until they both were planted on my ass, spreading me for a greedy mouth as his tongue flicked out and ran a line straight over every sensitive area below my waist.

"Holy fuck!" I whimpered my fingers desperately trying to bit into the wood as I felt my feet go up on my tiptoes.

I had been with some pretty kinky sons of bitches but Sam Winchester took the cake as his tongue ran circles around my hole, creating a dizzying fog inside my head before moving down to delve into my sex. The tip of his thumb followed, pressing against the tight ring of muscle there before using the slick of his own spit to dip in just a bit. I clenched at the invasion and his lips pulled away.

"Shh, relax," just his words, the tone of voice had me on edge, but when his tongue dipped in and flicked at my clit, my whole body screamed out in need and his thumb slid in completely. I felt him move, dipping in between the lashing his tongue was doing and the rhythm his thumb had created, and my head began to spin.

"Sam," I moaned as my body shook, my knees threatened to give out and suddenly he was sucking on my lips, pulling them into his mouth, and I was falling off the edge, the orgasm bringing me closer to the blackness than I had been since I passed out. I rocked back onto his mouth as he pulled, his teeth raking against sensitive flesh and I wanted more, needed more, but he was making it last too long. "Sam, please!"

"Please what," he questioned even as I felt him shifting behind me, moving as the angle of his lips changed. His mouth caressed slowly back up the same way he had gone down until he was beside my ear again, this time I could feel the thickness of his cockhead rubbing, pressing just before it separated the wet heat. "I want to be inside you, Rayna, need to be deep. Please, what?"

"Do it," I snapped and brough my head up so that I could feel that stubble scraping across my face. He pushed in softly at first, letting me adjust as I hissed through the burn but damn him, I needed more, his thumb moved, both hands came down and grasped my hips as his snapped forwards, filling me completely, my bones hitting the edge of the table again.

His rhythm was a dangerous pace, while trying to hold me still so that I didn't break any of the stitches that held my side but I could hear him behind me, feel his skin slapping against mine and I reached for the other end of the table, something to hold onto, something so that the swell of him as he brushed over the nerves deep inside me didn't take me over before I was ready.

"Wait, wait," I begged, reaching back to grab his wrist but he took mine instead, pulled out and flipped me over on the table, hooking his elbows under my knees as he pushed back in just as quickly.

I scrambled to find his flesh, digging nails into his shoulders as he lowered his mouth to my breasts, nipping the skin there, sucking on those harden peaks and just as the end came barreling down on me against, I leaned my head back, my eyes locked tightly shut and I nearly screamed, but his hand gripped my hair, tugging my head down until I felt his lips on mine.

"Look at me," he ordered, as I fought to open them even as the waves of ecstacy still flowed through me. He was inches away, just far enough to see those hazel eyes, and just as he stiffened, as his own end came barreling down on him, as I felt the warmth of him spill into me, I watches those hazel eyes turn black, and his lips curved up in a sly half-smile.

It was the last thing I saw before I descended into darkness, before the scream penetrated my ears, before the world shattered around me.

I stumbled onto the bed, nearly missing it as the vision started to get cloudy, using the bed to help put pressure down on the wound. I knew the darkness would come to claim me soon, there had to be a reason the room was so dark, but I couldn't go yet, I needed to reach out.

I pulled the phone from my pocket and placed it on the bed beside me before I struggled to search through the contacts, finding the last call that I had logged. That was three days ago, three long days, and I pushed the redial, hitting the speaker to listen to it ring.

"Rayna?" Dean's voice sounded gruff but concerned over the line. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Dean?" That confused me to no end, I thought I had called Sam's number. "Dean, I need your help."

"It's been three days, Ray, where are you?" He was typical Dean, possessive and protective, but I couldn't get much more out. "Ray! What the actual fuck? RAY!"

The darkness mumbled my words, closed in around me, dragged me down, and death was something that I almost welcomed.