DEVILISH

     when rayne sees the curling of the witch’s hand, she knows what it’s doing and instinct takes over. protect, protect, protect. it’s been her role since she stepped into the world of hunting and that hasn’t changed no matter who’s involved. rayne is going to protect people until it kills her and sam is no exception.

     from her peripherals she sees sam going for his gun and knows she needs to create enough of a distraction to give him that small window of time to grab it. easy enough.

     ❝it definitely is.❞ she’s already launched herself toward the witch with the intent to tackle before the sentence in finished. it’s a short distance and she doesn’t even need to connect with her, just keep the other woman distracted long enough for sam to grab his gun.

     A HELLHOUND of all things–this is bad.      they’ve barely made it to temporary reprieve, and now he’s asking her to leave him here? if the state of his leg is any indication, rayne knows that daring to leave to get help only results in coming back to find sam’s shredded corpse.      he has an angel blade, and maybe it’ll hold off the hound long enough for her to leave, to find dean, but it won’t be enough to keep sam alive. not for more than few minutes. she’s not stupid. he knows he’ll die fighting it and so does she.

     ❝there’s not a chance in hell.❞ words are firm. sam can argue all he wants, but she won’t leave him here to die, not when she can do something about it.      it’s going to leave him with more questions than answers, and she knows he’ll look at her differently, but it’s this or die. rayne won’t let him die. not on her watch.

     the gashes on her shoulder protest in burning pain when the brunette pushes herself up from the floor. muscles are angry and in agony at the movement. it doesn’t stop her.      door splinters with each time the hound slams against it. it’s not going to hold much longer.      she’s already put herself between sam and the door, fiddling with the silver-coated ring on her finger. the swelling of her broken digit makes it a struggle to get the piece of jewellery off, but it clatters to the ground in the same second that the hellhound breaks the door off its hinges.

     sam can’t see the hound, but she can. now, anyway. dark eyes have bled out to a glowing violet, and her posture has changed entirely. she stands straighter, the injuries and pain from only moments earlier seemingly non-existent and she rolls her shoulders and cracks her neck.      the next minutes move quickly, but by the end there’s a corpse made visible only by the volume of blood coating it. there’s as much blood on the body as there is covering rayne.

     violet gaze settles on the hunter to assess his injuries. she moves toward him carefully, knowing that instinct may have him wanting to use that angel blade in his hands–not that it would do too much.

     ❝i wouldn’t bother.❞ she motions to the blade. the voice doesn’t belong to rayne, but rather sounds like multiple layered atop one another with only vague hints of her inflections through it.      ❝i can’t do much for healing that leg, but i can make it bearable enough to walk on.❞

              “rayne, i’m not arguing with you on this. just get out of here!”   sam shouts and his head falls back from the pain that shoots through him from his leg, features contorting with a grunt.  he doesn’t have time to plead with her when there’s a hellhound that wants to get inside of the room they occupy.  he just needs her gone.  safe.  away from the immediate danger.   they’ve come too far to lose one another like this, and he refuses to lose her.    he’s lost too much to add her to that list.   he won’t.    “what the hell are you --- rayne!”   he calls out after her as she pushes herself up and between him and the door, heart hammering against his chest rapidly.   a hand comes to rest against the ground in a feeble attempt to stand, but body jolts harshly back to the ground as the door flies open.   

his  words  only  manage  to  piss  her  off  more.  aaliyah  is  well  aware  that  she  fucked  up,  that  she  should’ve  just  been  honest  with  him.  but,  she  didn’t  think  it  would  matter  anymore,  it  was  HER  life  and  her  relationship.  it  wasn’t  stopping  his  business  in  the  slightest.  but,  she  should’ve  known  better.  should’ve  known  that  logan  wouldn’t  see  it  that  way.  now,  her  recklessness  landed  jesse  in  the  hospital,  with  an  inch  of  his  life  left.  her  jaw  tightens,  icy  blue  hues  glaring  up  at  him.   ❝  you  don’t  know  a  goddamn  thing  about  him.  he’s  a  good  person  and  he  treats  me  good.  not  that  you  would  know  anything  about  that  because  you  almost  KILLED  him!  and  for  what,  logan?  because  your  little  sister  didn’t  tell  you  every  part  of  her  fucking  life?  GET  OVER  YOURSELF.  ❞  his  next  set  of  words   manages  to  cause  a  look  of  disbelief  to  form  on  her  features.  sure,  there  was  a  time  where  she  wanted  to  have  apart  of  his  business  but  that  was  long  in  her  past.   ❝  that’s  BULLSHIT  and  you  know  it.  i  don’t  give  a  shit  about  your  business.  me  being  with  him  was  about  me  and  him.  ❞

aaliyah  has  never  trusted  walter.  her  brothers  have  always  told  her  to  trust  her  gut  feeling  and  her  gut  was  SCREAMING  that  walter  was  not  to  be  trusted.  that  he  wasn’t  who  he  made  himself  out  to  be.  this  conversation  only  made  her  gut  scream  at  her  even  more,  telling  her  to  get  out  of  this  situation  quick.  aaliyah  knew  that  jesse  wouldn’t  tell  walter  about  them.  if  word  got  out  to  logan,  THEY’RE  BOTH  DEAD.  which  means  walter  had  to  be  digging  to  even  get  the  idea  that  something  was  going  on  with  the  two  of  them.  it  takes  all  her  self  control  not  to  snap  when  he  mentions  jesse.  she  knew  exactly  where  that  comment  was  going  and  it  was  anything  but  good.  a  feigned  smile  makes  its  way  on  her  features,  head  tilting  upwards.  ❝  thank  you  for  your  concerns  but  jesse  and  i  are  merely  friends.   ❞

worry  doesn’t  even  begin  to  explain  how  aaliyah’s  been  feeling  these  last  few  weeks.  this  wasn’t  like  jesse,  it  wasn’t  like  him  to  dodge  her  calls.  not  after  everything  they’ve  been  through.  she  worries,  he  knows  that.  that’s  why  he  calls,  even  when  he  might  be  too  busy  to  have  a  long  conversation.  but,  he  hasn’t  called  her  for  weeks.  he  hasn’t  been  at  his  apartment.  that’s  how  she  knew  something  was  wrong,  that  he  was  in  trouble.  but  who  could  she  talk  to?  her  brothers  would  just  say  he  proved  them  right,  that  he  didn’t  plan  to  settle  down  with  her  in  the  way  she  wanted.  so,  all  she  could  do  was  wait.  wait  and  hope  that  he  wasn’t  dead  in  a  ditch  somewhere. it’s  late  when  she  hears  the doorbell.  it’s  surprising.  it  can’t  be  her  brothers  or  jesse.  they  all  have  keys.  brows  crease  together  as  aaliyah  pulls  her  sweater  over  her  head,  walking  down  the  steps.  opening  the  door,  blue  hues  dart  over  him  before  she  inhales.  ❝  i’m  sorry,  do  i  know  you?  ❞   fingertips  grip  on  the  door,  prepared  to  slam  it.  [ i’m  sorry  to  bother  you,  ma’am.  but,  you’re  a  friend  of  jesse’s? ]  his  words  cause  her  hues  to  brighten,  nodding  slowly.  ❝  pinkman?  yeah,  we’re  friends.  do  you  know  where  he  is?  is  he  okay?  ❞

SHE  THOUGHT  SHE  WAS  DEAD.  from  what  the  doctors  were  saying,  she  should  be.  shot  in  the  head  and  an  attempted  poison  attempt  all  within  the  last  few  months.  as  the  doctors  say,  SHE’S  LUCKY.  but,  she  doesn’t  feel  lucky.  she  doesn’t  even  feel  like  herself.  she  feels  like  she  did  die.  not  to  mention  no  one  has  heard  from  jesse  yet.  either  he’s  dead  or  still  being  held  hostage  by  those  psychopaths.  either  way,  she’s  worried  about  him.  she’s  snapped  out  of  her  thoughts  when  her  brother  enters  the  room,  a  faint  smile  on  her  features.  ❝  hi.  did  you  talk  to  the  doctor?  ❞   /  @racointeur​

“  ketch…  ”  there  should  be  surprise  there,  right?  there  should  be  something.  some  shock.  some…  anger.  oh,  he  was  angry.  and  yet,  expression  remained  smoothed  over,  difficult  to  decipher  as  he  hovered,  made  no  move  to  approach  the  other.  if  he  did…  maybe,  he  might  just  hit  him.  told  himself  it  wasn’t  entirely  his  fault…  just  following  orders.  but  that  didn’t  necessarily  make  the  betrayal  hurt  less,  did  it?  “  …  still  alive,  i  see…  ”