Everything was quiet. My hair floated around me and in the silence of the water, I wished I could just stay there for forever.

I didn't want to face Sam and Dean. I was trying so hard to not hate them, to not look at them with the disgust I felt. Especially at Sam. I knew that I was tied to Dean and that made me feel close to him, like I needed him to be around me. I wanted to touch him, soothe the hatred and rage that he felt against himself and his brother.

I didn't want to do this. Maybe it would've been easier if it was some dirt bag who was able to overpower me, someone who wouldn't care what happened to me. Instead, I now have to deal with not only my rape in general, but the fact that the boys who did it will be brooding for the rest of my life.

I reemerged from the water, wiping it from my eyes. I looked back at them, my anger finally snapping.

"Get out! Both of you, now!" I yelled, throwing water at them.

Sam wasted no time, but Dean stayed put.

"I'm not leaving you," he said to me. The tears had dried, replaced by a sadness that was almost worse than tears.

I had to look away. "Dean, please, I can't stand it when you look at me like that. Just stop. You act like you're the one who…" I drifted off, unable to finish.

That was all it took. Dean stormed off, leaving me behind.

I waited until the water was cold and the suds were gone before I moved. Finally, I stood up and unplugged the drain, pulling the curtain around and turning on the shower. I washed myself slowly, ignoring the dull ache that invaded my bones. I tried to think about what would happen now. Dean and I couldn't be apart, in every sense of the word. We would die if we were away for too long.

This is such bullshit.

I finally finished, grabbed a towel from the ground and dried off. My bag was back in the bathroom and I wondered how it had gotten back there. Maybe I had ended up grabbing it when I ran back in and didn't even realize it. That or Dean had brought it back in. Either way, I grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt and changed quickly, grabbed my hairbrush and walked back out into the room.

Part of me was surprised to see that the boys were still there. They had cleaned up the room and fully dressed themselves. They were also in the process of getting really drunk.

Beer bottles and fifths of random alcohols were scattered around where they had thrown them. Sam was laying on the bed that hadn't been used, eyes closed. I saw that he had a couple of small scratches on his face where I had gotten him the night before. He was tense, everything in his body obviously screaming to get out of there. Dean was sitting with his back to me, taking a long swig of whiskey.

For whatever reason, seeing the alcohol pissed me off. I stormed up behind him, grabbed the bottle out of his hands, and threw it at the wall.

They jumped up, surprised and ready for a fight. When they saw that it was just me, they tensed up even more.

"Oh stop it, both of you," I sneered, sitting down on the loveseat. I started to brush my hair. "We have work to do and I can't have the both of you drunk."

"Look," said Dean. "I don't know how you are handling this as well as you are, but you can't pretend that what happened didn't happen! You can't just treat us like we didn't hurt you!"

I looked at him coldly. "Do you see me pretending like I'm alright, Dean?" My voice was rising. "Do you really think that I feel that way? I'm trying to keep it together so that I can get rid of this curse! You know why? Because I feel it, Dean."

He looked at me, shocked. I turned away. "I know you feel it. You don't think I feel it too? The need to be around you, the want for you to touch me?" A tear fell down my cheek and I wiped it away angrily. "A small part of me doesn't even want to get rid of the feeling. I just want to make you feel better and to be alright. I want you to hold me and tell me everything will be well. But I know it's not real! I know that it's this fucking curse talking, and I have to get rid of it, Dean. I can't feel this way for the rest of my life."

His throat was working like he wanted to say something, anything, to make me think it wasn't true but we couldn't lie to each other now. We saw through it easily, and it was maddening to both of us. We had built ourselves on lies and depended on people not being able to see them.

Dean finally found his voice. "What I don't understand is why Sam doesn't feel the same way. Why isn't he tied the same way? Did he not…you know."

I pushed down my feeling of nausea. "No, he did. He just didn't do it…first."

Sam got up without a word and walked out of the room. He grabbed nothing, just slammed the door. Dean didn't try to stop him.

"Shouldn't you make sure he isn't gonna hurt himself?" I asked, running the brush through my hair.

"Nah," Dean replied. "He needs time alone. I'd love to say he'll get over it one day, but I know he won't." He paused for a moment. "I don't think I will either.

We sat in silence for a while, neither of us sure what to say.

After a while, I stood up and walked out of the room, ignoring Dean's protests. I left my bag in the room, hopefully making Dean see that I wasn't leaving for a long time. I just needed fresh air.

I walked down the street, letting the cool breeze sink into my bones. It felt nice, with the sun on my face and the smell of grass filling my nose. I took comfort in all of the things surrounding me, the trees on my right and the pavement beneath my feet.

I looked to my right into the little woods. I went down a path that had obviously been walked multiple times, taking in the sights around me. The leaves were the color of fire in the middle of this month and were starting to fall. This time of the year had always been so bittersweet for me. My mother used to call it the time of bella muerte, beautiful death. Everything was dying, but you would never think so because it's all so beautiful.

I walked farther into the woods, listening to the rustle of the breeze go through the trees. Walking was making the ache start to leave my bones, but the pain between my legs lingered. I figured that it would take a while for that to get better. Maybe I would google it later.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't hear someone come up behind me.

"Thea."

I jumped, spinning around with my fists up ready to fight. What I saw instead of a stranger was the angel Castiel.

"Cas." I said, lowering my hands.

He looked me up and down, taking in the bruises and scratches. "You've been hurt."

I gave a humorless laugh. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."

His eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't sense what I did in you before, Thea. What happened?"

I turned and started walking back to the motel. I heard Cas fall into step behind me. I hesitated for a few moments. "I lost it."

He stopped short, forcing me to turn. "What are you talking about?"

I sighed. "Dean took it away. Him and Sam, last night."

Cas looked at me, the epitome of seriousness. "You no longer have your virginity." He didn't ask.

I looked away uncomfortably, the urge to be close to Dean getting strong again. I wanted to go back to him. "No."

"Thea, what happened?"

"What do you think happened, genius?" I snapped. "I went to sleep last night in the tub. I locked the door myself, everything was in place. The next thing I know, I wake up and Sam is standing over me. I felt the Need going through me. They overpowered me."

I started walking again, faster this time. An ache was beginning to form in my chest, strong enough to where I wanted something to make the pain go away. I also didn't want to play 20 Questions with a fallen angel anymore.

Thankfully, Castiel remained silent for a while. We walked back to the motel, but when I opened the door, I didn't seen Dean.

The place looked exactly the same as it did before I left, with my bag in place and everything. I knew that when I saw Dean's keys on the table that he hadn't left, so that was something at least. But where did he go?

"Cas? Where's Dean?"

"I'm not sure," the angel replied, taking in every detail of the room. "Perhaps he just slipped out for a while."

The pain in my chest was starting to become unbearable. I put my hand to it. "Where ever he is, I hope he comes back soon."