Innocence (Burning Beliefs #1)

Chapter Twenty-Six *edited*

Chapter Twenty-Six

GRACIE'S POV

I'm pacing. Pacing, and pacing, and pacing, and I'm not going to stop pacing until something changes. The slightest change in the monotone beep beep beep of the heart monitor, or the slightest peak in the brain wave screen... the slightest flicker of an eyelid.

Please. Wake up.

"Gracie," someone knocks on the door.

I turn around, biting my nails, my eyes catching the sight of Dean.

His eyes are puffy and red, and tearstains are bright white against his face. His clothes are stained with dust and dirt, and light violet crescents droop under his eyes.

"Dean," I sigh, removing my fingers from my mouth.

"Any changes?" he asks.

I stare down at his unmoving brother. He's so... content. And still. And silent. His life is on the edge of Hell, and he looks like he's sleeping.

"Nothing," I breathe slowly.

Dean walks through doorway, sitting down in the chair next to Sammy. He leans back and closes his eyes.

On the desk beside the bed, there's a tall, clear vase. A small bouquet of flowers is sitting in the water, the petals drooping like fog. Small white buds accompany roses and tulips and long strands of horsetail. This, of course, was sent along with a card signed by Rena and me. Dean was emptying his wallet in a bar somewhere when we bought the card, and Cas was stoned, or drunk, or both. I don't know. And Zach was in custody. Not police custody, he was long gone when the paramedics got inside. I mean Angel custody - Castiel style. And let me tell you, for someone who hurt both Cas's daughters and his brother, he better be expecting the ass-kicking of the century.

I'm no longer cutting just my arms. I've moved to my legs. Stabbing my feet, and slicing along my toes, creating ringlets around my thighs, drawing lines across my stomach, having Lucas tattoo scars across my back. Tattoos like swans, and sunrises, and ancient demonic script.

All I've been wearing are jeans that are way too tight, and cheap hoodies from some university I've never heard of - all from the thrift store. Right now, I'm sporting size 12 capris, these stripper boots that nearly reach my knees, and an uncomfortably tight dark green hoodie with an eagle on it. The bird is carrying a mouse, and cawing "Believe in Bedford." I saw a couple of people roll their eyes as I walked in. Trust me, I would've done the same thing.

"So I guess you must be having deja vu," I say.

"What do you mean?" Dean doesn't open his eyes.

"You and Sam have both died at least five times now," I say. "Or have come close to death, anyways."

Dean shifts a little in the seat. "Yeah."

"Well, can't you do something? There have to be a couple of methods for escaping death. You should be experts by now."

Dean blinks and leans forward. His irises are empty. He's tired, and not just literally. He's very, very tired.

"My dad sold his soul to the demon that killed our mom so that I could live," his voice comes out sounding like sandpaper. "I still don't think I've forgiven him for that. And then I sold my soul when Sammy was dead. That ended with Cas pulling me out of Hell and using me and Sammy as pawns in the Apocalypse. And then Sam was technically dead when he didn't have a soul. You remember that, don't you? From your vision? Pretty damn bad. And then when he got his soul back, he went clinically insane. After that, I was in Purgatory while Sammy tried to leave this life behind. He had a dog, and a girlfriend, but he got pulled down from that dream cloud real quick. And the whole Gadreel thing? I don't think I've done anything more idiotic in my entire life. Everything that happened afterwards, every single little mistake I've made, there's no undoing it, Gracie Belle."