Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing it folks, sharing is caring and all that. :P
Author's Note: I did some pretty major revisions to the end of this, so if there are any returning readers, no you aren't seeing things and your memory is just fine.
The Red Caress
Chapter 10
All Sam could see was red. The red of fire, the red of blood, and then the red of silk. The red stands out against the sterile white, blinding and cold. And then he started to feel, and this was when he knew that he was dreaming, because he had never felt the emotions he was experiencing now. His fear and doubt were replaced until he was all wonder and awe and…faith? His confusion brough him out of his sleep, but it was not his dream that caused his new uneasiness. Still on the hard chair, and slumped over nearly in half, Sam's spine tingled. The feeling of being watched was impossible to ignore. He had not been a Hunter his entire life for nothing, and he knew without a doubt that it was not his brother doing the observing.
Preparing himself to make a dash for the shotgun lying on the table beside him, Sam slit his eyes open a fraction. A dark shadow was being cast over Dean's prone form on the bad. Sam didn't know the man watching his incapacitated brother, and that was enough to send him hurtling to the side to scoop up his weapon. As quickly as he moved, he still wasn't fast enough to fire at the stranger before he found himself frozen on the spot by an invisible force. He couldn't move a muscle, nor make a sound and fear started to freeze even his thoughts. Rationality won over, however, as it always did. Sam knew he warded the room as tightly and thoroughly as any Hunter could, and this begged the question as to what creature could have bypassed them.
"Samuel Winchester.", the man said in a gruff and monotone voice. His blue eyed stare penetrated right through Sam, as though he could see into his head and read his thoughts. There was a tense silence following this statement, on Sam's end at least. The man seemed content to just look at him, his face never changing expression and his body still as stone. He was Dean's height, with short dark brown hair wearing a dark suit and khaki trench coat. He looked like any other working class man, and if Sam didn't know better he'd think he was as unthreatening as one too. "You resurrected them. It has taken me much effort to find you, but I have come." he stated, his eyes wandering down to look upon Dean for the first time. His gaze seemed gentle, and even fond, and this scared Sam more than anything. Other men did not look at his brother with fondness, at least not with good intentions. And now he had more than just Dean to worry about, the man seemed to know about Ruth too, meaning he'd put two more people in danger.
Sam futilely struggled to free himself, his mind shouting questions that his mouth couldn't. The stranger seemed to be listening though, cocking his head slightly towards Sam. Bringing his eyes back up to meet Sam's, he spoke. "My name is Castiel, I am an angel of the Lord." At that exact moment a passing car's head lights illuminated the curtained window behind this Castiel, and a giant pair of shadowed wings became visible on the walls. They stretched the length of the room and farther, and he swore he could hear the sound of feathers rustling. Sam's fighting ceased instantly, and now the loudest sound in the room now was the pounding of his heart in his chest.
"You have served the Lord well in this deed, and you shall be rewarded." the angel said, laying a hand on Dean's bicep. A bright light and building pressure filled the room, white noise blocking out all else. Sam had to close his eyes to avoid being blinded, and in a flash it was gone. With the end of the light came a release of the hold Sam has been under. He stumbled against the bed, before quickly regaining his feet and aiming the shotgun again. The lights flickered and the television abruptly turned on. He swiveled around to survey the rest of the room but it was empty, Castiel was gone as if he had never been there in the first place.
Sam sat his shaking body back onto the chair, laying his gun across his knees. He tried to process what he witnessed, an angel, possibly the first one seen in a thousand years. But angels don't really exist, this had to be a trick, a lie. He stared at Dean for a few minutes before realizing that something was different. Dean was no longer the same skinny, burned and bald ruin of a man that he was yesterday. His hair had grown back to its previous length, his muscles and weight returned, and Sam could only assume the same miracle had healed the burns and scars. All except one that is. Where the angel touched Dean's arm was a red and upraised handprint. Sam was up and at Dean's side before he had even fully processed what he was seeing. Running his hands over his brother's head and across his chest and stomach he finally accepted the truth, he really had been healed.
A sudden jerk under his hands sent him tumbling back from the bed. "Christ Sammy, you a perv or something? I know I'm beautiful, but incest is just wrong." Dean spoke in a teasing tone, just a hint of confusion evident in his still sleep laden voice. "What were you doing, anyway? You can't just touch a man while he's sleeping, I mean come on." He sat up, only to stare at the bandages on his body without comprehension. Peeking inside them, he gave Sam a look. "Seriously dude, what's with the mummy look? I don't have a scratch on me." But that's when he caught sight of the handprint. "What the hell is this?" he questions in a high voice, reaching up to lightly trace the mark. Sam was still in too much disbelief to do anything more than stare with his mouth gaping open. "Did I get a concussion on the last hunt? How long have I been out?" When Sam still didn't respond, Dean waved a hand in front of his face before giving him a couple light slaps on the cheek. "Sam! You're scaring me, dude!"
At Dean's touch Sam bolted off the floor and onto the bed, grabbing Dean up into his arms and holding on for dear life. "Dean. Oh god Dean, I missed you." He was crying and shaking and knew that he's freaking his brother out, but Dean just hugged him back, his body somehow instinctually understanding what his mind did not. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't figure it out, I couldn't save you. I'm sorry." Finally, with his brother back beside him, he felt as though he was whole again, like he wasn't being torn apart from the inside out. Dean just patted his back without speaking, letting him get everything out. Sam doesn't know how long they stayed like that, but eventually he managed to pull himself together. Leaning back, he wiped the tears off his face while watching to see what Dean's reaction would be. At first Dean's face betrayed none of his feelings, but then a dawning understanding starts to replace the blankness. A haunted look full of pain and fear was quickly shuttered away behind Dean's steel gaze, but not so fast that Sam hadn't caught it.
"Shit Sam! What did you do?" Dean moved off the bed as he growled this, his voice low and dangerous, and shook Sam through fistfuls of his shirt. Sam had been prepared to tell his brother the truth, to remain defiant in the face of Dean's wrath, but the appearance of an angel changed things. To lie or not to lie, that was the question facing him now. Sam was sorely tempted to lay all the blame on Castiel, to conveniently avoid mention of the ritual, but he didn't have only his own life to think about now. "Tell me what happened Sam. Start from the very beginning, I want to know everything. And don't leave anything out." Dean ordered, his voice harsh.
Knowing that what he was about to do would probably come back to bite him, he told the truth. "You were dead Dean. You died, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I tried everything, I looked in every book and talked to every demon, but I couldn't help you." he explained, his voice pleading for understanding and forgiveness with every word. "You were in Hell for over nine months. I would have done anything to get you back." Dean remained silent, but his expression was dark and Sam hesitated to continue. "It was the only way, Dean, I had to."
"How did you do it Sam! Did you sell your soul? Tell me!" Dean shouts. Sam knew that beneath the anger was all consuming fear, for his little brother he had died to save, and probably for himself as well. Sam opened his mouth to explain when a flash of red on the TV caught his attention. A news reporter was standing outside, bundled up against the cold, but that wasn't what interested him. It was the fact that in the background, the scene showed a tent surrounded by bloody and cracked earth. Sam knew that place, he had been there just this morning.
"Oh shit." he managed to utter. For the first time since waking Dean took his eyes off Sam, turning to view the screen as well. Sam grabbed up the remote and turned the volume higher, the sound filling the room. The reporter was speaking again, speculating on the apparent satanic ritual that seemed to have taken place. It was suspected that a murder or torture had taken place given the amount of blood found. Police moved around the scene, illuminated by the flashing blue and red lights, collecting evidence and incriminating Sam with every piece they found. In all the upheaval Sam hadn't even given a second thought at leaving the tent and all the evidence of their actions behind. His one driving thought had been to save Dean, to get him as far away as possible to the safest place he could manage. He couldn't believe he had done something so stupid, especially after all the warnings about secrecy he had given Rae. With Ruth at the hospital in the state she was in, and with the timing the way it was, it was only logical that she would be questioned about any possible connection to the scene. After that all it would take are a few simple blood tests to confirm her presence, another to identify the fingerprints as Sam's, and he was back on the FBI's radar.
From the disbelieving look Dean was giving him, he seemed to have put it all together as well. "God damn it Sam! Did you lose all those brains you had when I died?" He said all this only inches from Sam's face, his breath hot and alive on Sam's skin. He jabbed a finger into Sam's chest as he spoke, pushing him a step back with every word. Dean had backed Sam up to the end of the bed, and with the last poke of his finger Sam was forced to sit or risk falling flat on his back. Looking up at Dean's furious expression, Sam knew it was time to come clean.
"Look Dean, I can explain. Just sit down and hear me out, it's not as bad as it seems." he pleaded. Dean looked at him, narrowing his eyes in thought, but eventually he settled himself onto his own bed.
"Alright, talk. I'm listening. It better be damn good though, Sam.", he said, gesturing with his hand for Sam to start. His face, however, made it clear that no answer Sam could come up with would be good enough.
Blowing out a sigh and scrubbing a hand through his hair, Sam spoke. "You might as well get comfortable, this will take a while."
Rae watched the Impala carry Sam into the horizon, until he was merely a dark speck in the distance. Feeling both regret and relief at his absence, she turned her attention back to her sister. Tears welled up again at the sight of Ruth's broken body, and she drew in a deep breath to scream for help, but before she could release it, a man silently appeared out of the thin air beside her. Startled, her yell was stifled in her throat, and she could only watch as the stranger kneeled down beside her sister, lightly brushing her cheek with his fingers before pushing aside the coat to grasp her arm. Uncomfortable with the audacity and familiarity the strange man was showing, thinking he could touch her half naked sister, Rae raised her hand to protest and push him away, only to find herself frozen in place. Blue eyes met her frightened stare, and all she could think about were demons. Sam had told her they were real, but he said she didn't need to fear them, she guessed he was wrong. All consuming fear expanded in her chest, constricting her lungs and stealing away her breath, and she knew the demon has come to take Ruth back to Hell.
It started with a high pitched ringing in her ears, the sound canceling out everything else and soon a white light joined it. Rae felt her eyes watering with its blinding intensity, and wished she could look away, but this may be the last time she ever sees her sister, and she wasn't about to waste it. Soon enough, however, the whiteness was all she could see, an avalanche of light. Just when she thought she couldn't take a second more of this, it was gone. Slumping to the cold cement, she released the breath she hadn't realized she was holding, gasping in the freezing air that stabbed the back of her throat like needles. Her eyes still closed, Rae slowly worked up the courage to look and see what was left before her. Wiping away the tears, she peeked out from under her lashes. Still laid out in front of her was her sister, but the one she remembered from before, whole and untouched beneath the gore and blood. She knew that this wasn't the work of a demon, and the opposite of a demon must be an angel.
With the death of Rae's sister had also come the death of her faith in God. She hadn't stopped believing, not after what she had witnessed, but she could no longer bring herself to worship that which had done nothing to help her. Now, looking at the restored body of the most important person in her life, Rae could feel the shattered pieces of her faith beginning to heal. She wass shaken back into reality and out of her thoughts with the sudden onslaught of nurses and doctors. The noise and chaos they brought with them left her reeling and overwhelmed. Shouted questions blurred together until they sounded like nothing more than nonsense, hands grabbed and touched and tried to separate her from Ruth, and she couldn't take another second of it.
"Stop! Just stop.", she shouted, pushing away the probing hands and startling the people they belonged to. "My sister needs help, please just help her. I'm fine, I swear. This isn't my blood. I just need you to take care of my sister." With the proclamation that the blood adorning her was not her own, the full attention of the doctors immediately shifted to the unconscious woman in her lap. In the blink of an eye Ruth had been lifted onto a stretcher, and Rae's ruined red coat had been discarded in favor of clean hospital blankets. She rushed to keep pace with the crowd as they moved swiftly inside and through the white maze of corridors, only to be stopped in front of a set of swinging double doors by the gentle hands of a nurse.
"I'm sorry dear, you can't come any further. I'll have to ask you to wait here, someone should be out soon to check up on you. Why don't you have seat, we'll let you know as soon as we have any news on your sister." Rae wanted to protest, to shove past the doors, the rules be damned. But at that moment she was having trouble doing much of anything. The adrenaline high she had been running on had disappeared rapidly, leaving her feeling unsteady and lightheaded. The gnawing ache she had been feeling low in her belly since waking that morning had been growing and increasing steadily, and she wasn't able to push past it and ignore it any longer. Her entire body was radiating burning hot flashes of heat centering in her abdomen, making her lightheaded while the clawing pain made her unsure if she wanted to pass out or throw up. The nurse was giving her a concerned look, seeming to sense what she was feeling, and Rae couldn't take any more.
Stumbling hastily backwards, she lifted up a hand to ward off the nurse's advances. "Thank you, but I just need a second. I need the bathroom, where is it?" she asked, searching rather desperately for an escape. She just needed a minute alone to calm down and collect her thoughts. She sent the woman a pleading look, silently asking for her to let it go. The nurse's gaze softened and turned sympathetic, probably thinking it was only the stress of her injured sister affecting her, and she directed Rae down the hallway to a door on the right. She barely managed to walk the distance, her legs shaking and her head spinning. Shutting herself inside, Rae let herself slide down the door onto the cold tile floor, no longer able to support herself through the haze of pain. Finally alone, she couldn't hold herself together any longer. Her sobs shook her entire body, and for the first time she not only cried for her sister, but also for herself. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she tried to curl into herself, to stifle the pain she felt emotionally and physically.
She couldn't ignore the fire burning through her stomach any longer, and the stabbing pain made her groan in agony. The edges of her vision fizzled black and started to go blurry. Her skin felt feverish and tight, and sweat started to build on her forehead and slide down her back. Her heart raced, fluttering like a trapped bird in her chest and she panted in her effort to suck in enough air. She clutched her coat in her hands so hard that she felt fingernails break from the pressure. But the pain just kept getting worse, intensifying to the point that she wondered if she was dying. The stray thought that Sam hadn't told her about this floated through her mind, but dashed away again as quickly as it came. The thudding of the door on its hinges made her realize that she was rocking, and abruptly it's all too much. Rae couldn't hold the darkness at bay any longer. She slumped bonelessly to the ground, the cold floor a relief to her scorching skin. It was only then, before she slipped away, that she noticed the puddle of blood pooling beneath her, seeping out from under her dress, staining everything it touched.
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