Synopsis: This story centres on Rayne Adams, a twenty-one year old girl who's never really found her own path. A few years after the rather ambiguous death of her father, Rayne meets Sam and Dean who introduce her to the world of the supernatural. As she starts to find out about the mystery her father died trying to solve, Rayne decides that becoming a hunter is the path that she has been looking for all along. Joining the Winchester brothers on the road, Rayne begins to learn more about the role that Heaven and Hell have ordained for her to play and the mysterious connection between her and Dean that does not allow them to separate.
The story starts halfway through season 1 but does not follow the show from there. Certain characters and plot lines are used but everything else, including Rayne, is of my own creation. Key elements of the storyline are altered to include Rayne.
I turned up the volume as I heard one of my favorite jam out songs start to play next. Sure, people often called me a wannabe hipster for liking classic rock but that's all my dad listened to when I was growing up and it sort of rubbed off on me. I didn't listen to guitar solos and whip my hair back and forth because I wanted to be cool, I did it because the bass of the guitar and the beat of the drums sent my heart pumping and my blood rushing. There wasn't a better high. Not that I tried other highs, I mean...I assumed. No matter how crappy my day was, a little Boston, AC/DC, or Creedance Clearwater Revival always succeeded in picking up my spirits.
In this case it was Cherry Pie by Warrant. I eased off the gas pedal of my bright 1954 red Chevrolet Corvette at the stoplight and cranked the volume even higher as the chorus came on, belting it out as I did.
"She's my cherry pie
Cool drink of water
Such a sweet surprise
Tastes so good
Make a grown man cry
Sweet cherry pie oh yea"
"She's my cherry pie
Put a smile on your face
Ten miles wide
Looks so good
Bring a tear to your eye
Sweet cherry pie"
I felt eyes on me and turned to my right where I noticed two guys staring at me from the front seat of their car. Normally I would have glanced away shyly and prayed for the stoplight to turn green, but like I said; rock music had a certain effect on me. I proceeded to lift my sunglasses to the top of my head and grinned at the man driving as I continued to sing.
"Swingin' to the drums
Swingin' to guitar
Swingin' to the bass
In the back of my car"
"Ain't got money
Ain't got no gas
But we'll get where
We're goin' if we
Swing real fast"
The man in the passenger seat was now laughing at the driver, who was starring at me in wonder, with his mouth hanging slightly open. Feeling a bit daring I sent him a wink and turned back to the road just as the light turned green. I pressed the gas and sped off, leaving the 1967 black Chevy Impala to block the intersection.
I started to slap Sam on the chest trying to get his attention as I stared after the red Chevy Corvette. "Dude, dude...Am I dead?" I asked.
"Uh, Dean? The light is green. You might want to move before someone rams into your car," Sam responded, ignoring me drooling all over myself. Literally, I haven't swallowed since that vision in red pulled up next to me.
Snapping to attention I noticed that indeed the light was now green and I quickly gassed it. "Did you see her? Was she for real? I swear I could have mistaken her for a ghost that lured men to their deaths with those cherry red lips, and green eyes and that hair...Oh man, did you see the hair?" I asked Sam, rambling on.
Sam chuckled. "Maybe this is some monster screwing with your mind," he joked.
I glared at him, horrified. "Dude...not cool."
"Man, relax. You'll probably never see her again."
I ignored him. "I'll post an ad," I said, lifting my hands from the wheel for a moment to spread out an imaginary banner. "It'll read: "Looking for my Cherry Pie"". I grinned and slapped his chest again. "That's good, eh?"
Sam smacked my hand away and rolled his eyes. "Stop slapping me."
I scowled at him. "Stop rolling your eyes at me Sammy; we don't want them to fall out." Sam responded with another exaggerated eye roll and focused his attention back to the newspaper on his lap. "So, anything?" I asked.
"Nope, nothing. Just another average, ordinary, no monsters-in-sight, day."
"So no demons, witches, or werewolves?"
"Not even a dog show," Sam responded, scanning the next page.
"Well, let's spend the night here anyways. Who knows, maybe we'll run into Cherry Pie again." I wiggled my eyebrows at him.
"Am I going to hear about her for the rest of the day now?" Sam asked, exasperated.
"Sammy," I said using my big brother voice. "A woman like that doesn't come around every day. She is now and forever more a measuring stick against which every female will be measured...against." I cringed, getting lost in my own speech.
Sam laughed. "Man, she really did a number on you, huh?"
I looked at him as if he were crazy. "Dude, a girl like that, driving in a classic car and singing about pie?"
"Okay, yeah I see your point," Sam scoffed.
"It's like she was made for me, Sammy," I declared.
"Right, yeah. Just don't tell her that," he chuckled.
"Oh, I plan to. Just as soon as I find her. This town is like a miniature version of the Gilmore Girl's set. Can't be that hard, right?"
Sam stared at me, holding back a laugh. "You watch Gilmore Girls?"
I frowned at him and looked away. "Watched," I emphasized. "Once. The speed at which that chick talks just hypnotizes you and before you know it, you're having a total chick-flick moment." Sam just stared at me expectantly. "Oh, shut up," I growled.
Sam lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, no judgment dude...you can watch it all you want."
I looked at him in annoyance. "Maybe you should watch it, Samantha. Come to think of it, that one guy on the show sort of looked like you," I said, grinning.
Sam looked at me, scrutinizing. "I thought you said you only watched it once."
"I did!" I snapped. "The guy had the same name as me...caught my eye."
"Oh, Dean catching Dean's eyes; that explains it then. Happens every time you walk by a reflective surface."
I smirked. "If you had a face like mine, little brother, you'd be catching your own eye as well."
"You're sick," Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes in amusement.
"And pretty, too, right? Tell me I'm pretty, Sam!" I whined, getting a playful punch in the shoulder from him in response.
I pulled over to the side of the deserted road and groaned in frustration. "Darling, I just fixed you up!" I yelled at my car. "Don't break down on me now!" I got out of front seat, slamming the door behind me. Quickly pulling my hair into a high ponytail I threw my sunglasses onto the front seat and went over to lift the hood. I was on my way home from bartending so I was in my jean shorts, white tank top and cowboy boots. I sighed, looking down at myself. I was a cowgirl stranded on the side of the road with a broken car. Could I have looked like more of a cliché?
I started inspecting the engine and twisting the valves, trying to figure out the problem. I was fairly good with cars since my dad helped me fix this one up for my eighteenth birthday but this wasn't a loose screw or a leaky wire and so I was at a loss. I went around to the driver's side and leaned in through the window, searching for my purse. I strained even farther, my fingertips brushing the leather side bag lying on the passenger seat. Rummaging through, I pulled out my phone and a second grown escaped my mouth in the past five minutes - the battery had oh so conveniently died.
We had turned onto the country road a few minutes later following a sign that said a motel was a few miles away. I was singing badly to Paradise City when I spotted a red Chevy Corvette on the side of the road. No fricken way. "Well, Sammy, I told you I'd find her."
Sam followed my gaze and threw his head back, groaning. "Seriously? How does it always work out for you?"
"What can I say?" I grinned. "I attract girls like bees to honey."
Sam chortled. "Right."
I slowed the car down as we got closer and I noticed a pair of long legs sticking out of the driver's window, butt in the air. "Holy Mary and Joseph. I must be dreaming."
"Dean, put your tongue back in your mouth. You're starting to drool again."
"Is it my birthday, Sammy?" I asked. "Did you get me a present?" I batted my eyes at him.
"Just pull over behind her, she might need some help," Sam said, ignoring me.
"Oh, I'll help her all right." I grinned.
"Try not to act like a dog for two minutes," Sam pleaded.
"No promises, brother," I responded, getting out of the car.
I suddenly heard the purr of an engine at the sound of tires pulling over behind me. My heart faltered. Someone was getting quite a nice view of my butt hanging out the window. As gracefully as I could, I slithered back out, adjusting my shirt, which had crawled up my stomach. I glanced at my audience and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
It was the two guys from earlier who witnessed my loud singing. The guy I winked at was tall, around 6 foot 1, with short brown hair, striking green eyes, and a killer smile. The kind of guy who knew he has every girl's attention within a five-block radius. The guy next to him was even taller; if that was possible, with shaggy brown hair, brown eyes and a friendly grin. Brothers, definitely brothers.
The guy who I winked at was now standing in front me, waiting expectantly for me to say something. He was smiling in a way that made me sure he enjoyed watching me squirm. Ugh, I winked at him. I can't believe I winked at him! I flushed and glanced up at him. Being only 5'2' I felt like a midget standing under their watchful eyes.
"Uh, hi..." I offered.
"Car troubles?" the one in front of me asked.
I looked back at Darling, trying to escape his intense stare. I suddenly wished for my mother's flirting skills, which she so kindly forgot to pass onto me. I was not good around guys...especially when they looked like God's perfect prototypes. Swallowing loudly I looked back up at them. "Looks like, can you help?"
"That's why we're here. I got a thing for damsels in distress," the one in front of me said, winking. I laughed, nervously. Was he serious?
"Uh...excuse my brother," the taller one said apologetically. "He's inhaled too many fumes as baby."
"Yeah, and that's why I'm so good with cars...which is exactly what this lady is in need of," he said, grinning as he looked back at me.
"I'm Sam," the tall one said, offering me his hand. "This idiot here is Dean." I shook both of their hands and smiled. They seemed harmless enough. I wasn't letting my guard down, however. Daddy taught me well.
"Rayne, nice to meet you guys. You definitely showed up at the right time; my cellphone just died." I sighed.
"Well, Rayne," Dean started, "I'll just take a quick look under your hood," he grinned at me suggestively.
I raised my eyebrow at him and popped a hip as I crossed my arms. "That usually work for you?" I asked.
He glanced around uncertainly. "Uh...what?"
"The whole cocky, slimy routine." I gestured to him with a pointed finger. His face broke into a slanted, shy smile as he shifted uncomfortably.
"You'd be surprised," Sam interrupted.
"Take me down
To the paradise city
Where the grass is green
And the girls are pretty
Take me home"
The lyrics blasted from inside their car. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "Guns N' Roses?" I asked.
"The ones and only," Dean stated proudly.
"Well, you've got good taste in music, I'll give you that," I offered.
Dean smiled. "Only that?"
I walked over to their car, sliding my fingers across the hood. "'67 Impala?"
"You know your cars," Dean said, sounding impressed.
I smirked at him. "I know a good thing when I see it." I think that comment almost flustered him and it gave me an odd rush of satisfaction. Two people could play at this game. Some other two people, of course - I was terrible at this. That flirty response came out of nowhere and will most likely never be seen again. I leaned against his car, my eyes never leaving his. I was silently daring him to respond, curious to see what he would say to that.
Dean rubbed his arm nervously and looked away. "So, uh, your car..." he trailed off.
Sam burst into laughter. "Rayne, you may be the first women ever to effectively leave my brother speechless."
I grinned at Dean's scowl. "I'm thinking of developing it into a party trick." Sam laughed even harder as Dean shuffled back towards my car, grumbling something under his breath. He then proceeded to dig under the hood of my car for the next five minutes while Sam and I sat on the hood of the Impala.
"So do you live around here?" Sam asked me.
"Yup, born and raised."
"You ever get bored of the small town life?"
"Nope. I love it here. I know everyone, everyone knows me. I realize that might drive some people crazy but I've always been sort of a homebody. I wouldn't feel at home anywhere else." Sam nodded as if he understood, looking lost in thought. "Are you guys from around here?" I asked.
"I thought you knew everyone," he said, teasing me.
I smiled sweetly at him. "I figured you weren't...just giving you the option to lie if you didn't want to tell me."
He chucked. "How considerate of you." He sighed. "No, Dean and I have been on the road for the past little while. Don't really have anywhere to call our own."
"Travelling?" I asked.
Sam laughed. "Yeah, you could say that, hasn't really been a vacation though. It's kind of our job."
"What? Driving all over the country with your pompous brother?" I joke.
"I heard that!" Dean yelled from underneath the hood.
"Good!" I yelled back, hoping he couldn't hear the amusement in my voice.
"Yeah, family business goes hand in hand with said brother."
"Oh, what's the business?" I asked.
Sam shifted his eyes uncertainly. He opened his mouth to reply just as Dean strolled over to us, a grease stain on his forehead. "Your battery died," he stated.
I jumped off the hood and ran over to look at my engine. "No way, I just had a new one put in last month!"
"Hate to break it to you, sweetheart," Dean said, "but you were sold a nearly empty battery."
I kicked at the ground in frustration. "Dang it!"
"Hey, we have a chain in the trunk. We could tow your car somewhere for you?" Sam offered.
I looked up at him and smiled gratefully. "I would really appreciate that, thanks."
"What, and no thanks for me?" Dean asked, looking offended.
I refrained from rolling my eyes and patted his chest as I walked over the driver's side door. Hard chest. Chiseled chest. Distracting chest.
Get a hold of yourself, woman!
"Thanks for checking out Darling, Dean," I said, trying to keep my voice even.
I noticed Sam cock his head in question. "Darling?"
I looked back at them sheepishly. "That's my car's name..."
Sam scoffed, throwing his hands up in defeat. "It's like you guys were made for each other."
"Huh?" I asked, feeling like I was missing something.
Dean laughed, amused. "That's Baby over there," he said, pointing over at the Impala.
I frowned. "See, Sam? Everyone names their cars."
"No, no, I'm pretty sure that's only the two of you," Sam responded.
I shrugged and grabbed my purse from inside the car. "Whatever. Are you guys going to get the chain, or what?"
"Are you a chain kind of girl?" Dean wiggled his eyebrows at me.
I laughed, feeling my cheeks heat up. "Down, boy, down!"
Dean winked. "Whatever you want."
"You're impossible!" I groaned.
Sam coughed, attempting to hide a laugh. "Try living with him."
"I feel your pain, Sam. I really do," I offered sympathetically.
"Sammy, stop messing with her mind. I'm a joy to live with!"
"Well, you're definitely something," Sam stated under his breath, which made me laugh.
Dean glared at me almost playfully ... almost, and I quickly stopped. "Get in the car, Rayne." I looked down and shuffled to the passenger side, trying to hide my smile. I felt Dean trailing close behind me. "Do you want me to open the door for you or do you prefer climbing in head first through the window? I didn't get a good enough view last time so be my guest," Dean proposed, his hand on the handle.
I slapped his hand away and opened the door myself, scooting into the middle. "You're such a dog," I called after him as he slammed the door. He was still laughing as he came around the front of the car to sit beside me at the wheel.
He drove the car to stand in front of mine and got out to help Sam attach the front of my car to the back of theirs. Once finished they came back to sit on either side of me. I felt like a little kid sitting in between the two of them. "So whose older? If age was measured by height I'd say you were 150, Sam and you, Dean, were 125."
Sam laughed while Dean grumbled in annoyance. I got a sense that their height was a frequent topic of conversation. "I'm 27 and Sammy here, is 23." Dean leered. "Size isn't everything, sweetheart. If it was, judging by your height I'd think you were 12."
I slapped his arm, my short height being a somewhat sensitive subject matter. "Shut it, Empire State Building. 5'2' is a perfectly normal height!"
Dean snickered. "Yeah, for a 12 year old."
"I'm 21, thank you very much," I retorted.
"Sure thing, Pip Squeak," Dean responded, not convinced.
"I'll show you my driver's license if you don't believe me, Big Bird!"
"I didn't know 12 year olds were allowed to drive, Shortcake," he said without missing a beat.
I slapped his arm harder. "Bite me, Beanstalk!"
"Woah, woah, woah," Sam said and pulled my hands to his side, preventing me from abusing his brother some more. "He believes you, Rayne; he's just pushing your buttons. Now, how about I let you go and you can tell us where to take you?"
I grunted but agreed as he slowly let go of my hands. Dean just continued to laugh at me. I gave him a death glare and fixed my eyes on the road, crossing my arms across my chest. "There's a junkyard a few miles from here, you can drop me off and I'll find a battery that will last me till I can get a hold of my mechanic."
"Where's your mechanic?" Sam asked.
I shifted in my seat. "He's kind of MIA at the moment."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, serious all of a sudden.
"Well, I was supposed to go see him last week but he wasn't home. I've been calling him but there's no answer."
"Does he usually go on long, unannounced trips?" Dean asked.
"Roger hadn't left his house since his wife died." Dean and Sam looked at me expectantly. "...In 1995."
"Huh," Dean said, looking back at the road.
"Any other people missing around here by any chance?" Sam asked.
"Well, now that you mention it, my milk man also hasn't been around in a while," I said sarcastically, eyeing Sam suspiciously. "Why are you so interested?"
"Uh, well..." Sam glanced at Dean, silently begging him for help.
"The family business that Sam mentioned," Dean said all of a sudden. "That's sort of what we do."
"Look for missing people?" I asked, unbelieving. "Are you guys the FBI or something?"
Dean chuckled humorlessly. "Yeah, or something."
"So why haven't you reported Roger missing?" Sam asked. I didn't miss the fact that he was trying to divert my attention.
I snorted. "Roger has been missing for quite some time. Went a little Cuckoo's Nest after Linda died. Started thinking someone was after him. So he destroyed any evidence of Roger shortly after. Can't exactly report a man missing if he doesn't exist."
"And you're friends with this guy?" Dean asked dubiously.
I shrugged my shoulders. "Man was a good mechanic. Cheap too."
Sam looked out his window pensively. "How did you know him?" he asked.
"Old family friend, you could say. My dad always went to him whenever he had car troubles."
"Huh," Dean said again.
"So, do you guys think he's seriously missing? Like, milk carton missing?" I asked, suddenly worried for the old man all over again.
"We don't know," Sam admitted. "But something doesn't feel right. Dean and I can swing by and take a look."
"Well, if you guys are going than I'm going too!" I spoke up, not wanting to be left behind. Roger was my friend, after all. "But I don't know what you'll find. Nothing seemed amiss."
"It won't hurt to look again, right?" Sam asked.
"Right," I responded after a moment, carefully studying his face for anything that should be telling me to run the other way. He seemed genuinely concerned and eager to help, however.
We drove by a cheap motel and Dean quickly pulled in. "Sam can stay here and try and gather some info on Roger and I'll take you to the junkyard to help you find a battery."
"Oh, you don't have to do that," I said quickly. "I can take it from here."
"It's no problem," Sam interjected. "Dean is good with cars. You guys can take the Impala and leave your car here. When you get back we can all go check out Roger's place."
I sat still and contemplated what he said. I never really changed a car battery by myself before and I wasn't too eager to go to the junkyard on my own. It was like a drug dealer's MacDonald's Play Place. Lots of shady characters. "Well, all right. Thanks."
"Do you know Roger's last name?" Sam asked. "You know, for research."
"Oh, yeah...umm Roger Macklin."
I got out to help them unchain my car and then Sam left to pay for a room. I stood, watching him walk away, unsure of myself all of a sudden. Dean winked at me as he went to get back into the Impala. "Well, are you coming or what, Cherry Pie?"
I flushed red as I scampered to get in the other side. "Cherry Pie?" I asked, suddenly remembering that it was the song I was singing when I saw them earlier.
Dean grinned at me. "I think it suits you. Cherry red car, red hair..." he trailed off.
I ran my hand through my ponytail self-consciously. "It's auburn..." I mumbled.
Dean grinned at me even wider as he started the car. "I also love pie."
"Uh, what?" I asked, totally confused again.
"Apple's my favorite, of course," Dean went on, ignoring me. "But cherry is a strong second," he said, sending another wink my way.
"Right..." I trailed off, unsure if I should come up with a smart remark or bask in the warm, tingly feeling I got from the cute nickname. He was looking at me like he could read my thoughts and I nervously looked away.
"You went from winking at me at the lights to blushing like a tomato, what happened, Rayne?" he asked, laughing.
I scoffed. "I thought I'd never see you again, that's what happened."
"Sorry to disappoint," he said. "So, to the junkyard, Cherry Pie?" he whispered the last part seductively.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, just drive before I nickname you after a pastry."
He laughed, swiftly backing out of the parking spot. "You're all right, kid," Dean said approvingly.
I couldn't stop the small smile that tugged on my lips.