serafina20 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
serafina20) wrote2006-06-03 09:29 pm
serafina20) wrote2006-06-03 09:29 pm
Entry tags:
Supernatural (7/?)
Title Another Kind of Trap (6/?)
Author![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serafina20
Rating R
Spoilers everything through Devil's Trap
Summary The Winchesters need help after the events of Devil's Trap. Luckily, Sam has made arrangements for this eventuality. He just failed to inform Rachel Adams of his plans. Sequel to Captured Soul and Kitsune
Pairing Dean/OFC
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Once, Rachel was able to get a full eight hours sleep without being woken. She was beginning to hate her phone. If she wasn't waiting for word on Sam, she'd have turned her cell off. Not that she thought Missouri or Dean would call if her Sam woke up. She just hoped.
This time, it wasn't her cell phone that woke her. It was the door.
She didn't wake at first. The knock blended into her dream and was easily ignored. Then it got louder. Rachel opened her eyes. Her head felt heavy and fuzzed, and entire body was sore with exhaustion.
The knock changed into a pound. A muffled voice called out her name.
No. Not her name. Mrs. Winchester.
Business, then. Probably the police. Couldn't ignore that.
With a groan, she forced herself out of bed. Somehow, she felt even more exhausted than she had before she went to bed. Probably because she'd given herself downtime. Always a mistake. Once you stopped, starting up again was hard.
"Officer Schmidt," she said on opening the door. "Is something wrong?"
The officer she'd met at the hospital smiled at her pleasantly. "Nothing wrong, no. I thought I'd bring by some of your friends' clothing that was in the car." He held up a black trash bag.
Personally? That was odd. "Thank you." She reached for the bag.
He pulled it away. "May I come in?"
Rachel grabbed the door and stepped back, ready to slam it. "Um, I'm not really..."
"Great!" He took advantage of her movement by pushing past her, walking into the room. "This is a nice place," he said. He put the trash bag on the couch. "I would have expected you to stay in a hotel. I was surprised to pull up in front of an apartment building."
"I figured I'd be here for awhile," she said, staying at the door. She slid her hand down to the doorknob. "My mom thought a furnished apartment would be more comfortable, especially when the guys are released from the hospital." Her heart pounded in her throat. "Officer..."
"Please, call me Adam."
She narrowed her eyes. When he moved closer to her, she could feel the air press against her skin, heavy and cold. "Officer," she said again, tightening her hand on the knob, "is there something you need to talk to me about? Other than the clothes?"
"I heard your husband woke up."
"He did. I assume you have questions for him."
"Of course."
"Tomorrow or the next day might be okay. He's really tired."
Schmidt nodded. "Of course. And how are you doing?" He took a few more steps toward her.
Rachel opened the door further, stepping partway behind it. It was minimal protection, but at least there was something between them. "Fine. A little tired. I was sleeping when you came."
"I can't imagine what you're going through." He walked over and put his hand on the door, holding it. "Have you eaten? I know a restaurant..."
"No," she gasped. Pain bloomed in her forehead, spreading out, like someone was hammering against the center. "I mean, no I haven't eaten, but I can't go out. It'd be, uh, a little inappropriate."
"I don't see how. It's not like I'm asking you on a date." He smiled and leaned closer.
The pain sparked brightly. "Aren't you investigating my husband?"
"Not exactly. Just trying to get a clear picture of what happened the night he was injured, that's all. And it'd hardly be gentlemanly if I let an investigation get in the way of making sure a beautiful young lady takes care of herself."
"I've got a friend. She's with the boys right now, but she should be home any minute."
"Are you sure..."
"Officer Schmidt, you need to leave," Rachel said, voice firm. "Right now. You're making me uncomfortable and I want you gone."
"But..."
"Go."
He sighed, but nodded. "I'm sorry. I never intended to upset you. Only to offer a hand." Before she could move, he reached out and touched her cheek gently.
Rachel yanked away and pushed the door closed. Schmidt allowed himself to be ushered out with it.
Two locks and a chain weren't enough. She was shaking. Her head pounded. She felt like she was going to throw up.
There was something wet on her upper lip. Her fingers came away with blood.
Heart thundering, Rachel crossed the living room. Ran to the window. Watched as the police officer climbed into his car and drove away.
Safer. She went to the bathroom and held tissue after tissue to her nose. As the pain in her head faded from sharply nauseating to dull and annoying, the flow slowed until it was a trickle and stopped.
Her reflection was pale. Dark circles were under her eyes. Her hands shook.
Not stopping to change clothes, Rachel grabbed her purse and practically flew the ten blocks to the hospital.
"Dean!" He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't there. What had happened, where...
"Jesus, what happened?"
And then she was in his arms. He had her, tightly, face in her hair, holding her while she tried to shake apart. Her chest burned with each gasp, down her chest, fire in her lungs. Sweat on her face, her back. Her shirt clung to her.
"Shhh. Calm down." Dean stepped back a couple steps and sat. He pulled her onto his lap, stroking her hair. "Breathe."
"I...I...I...I am," she gasped. Her head spun.
"No, you're not. Breathe, damnit."
She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. Her face was pressed into the crook of his neck. When she breathed in deep, she could smell the horrible, dull tang of antibiotic hospital soap. It was gross. Worse than if he smelled like body odor or something. At least then he'd smell like Dean.
She pressed harder into him, searching for skin that smelled like him.
"Uh." Dean cleared his throat. His fingers tightened on her hips. "Um, babe? Maybe you could stop? Wiggling and... nuzzling? Unless you're ready to take care of that whole virginity thing while I'm hooked up to a heart monitor, that is."
Startled, Rachel lifted her head. Dean's face was close, eyes dark.
She licked her lips.
Dean exhaled hard and moved in. Kissed her. Lips moving over hers, tongue inside her mouth, petting, stroking. Hands on her back, under her shirt, chasing drops of sweat that had rolled down, stroking them over her skin.
"You okay?" he asked, breaking the kiss. He was breathing heavily. Probably overstrained.
"Yeah. Just freaked." She licked her lips. "One of the cops I talked to the other day came by the apartment."
"You didn't let him in, did you?"
"He pushed by me. He didn't do anything, just... Brought by your guys' clothes. Asked me to dinner. Stupid, but he freaked me out."
"He asked you to dinner."
"Yeah."
"He asked you, *my wife*, to dinner."
She swallowed. "Yeah."
"What the hell, man?"
"I don't know. I don't know." Rachel rested her head on Dean's shoulder and closed her eyes.
He pulled her head away from his shoulder and studied her face. "What's with the blood?" His thumb brushed over the skin just above her upper lip.
"Oh." She touched it. "Um, I got a bloody nose. After the guy left."
"Anything else?"
"My head hut. Every time he moved closer to me, the pain got worse. I thought I was going to throw up, and then it faded."
"When he left."
"Yeah." She got off his lap and went into the small bathroom. There was blood staining her lips, chin, nostrils. She couldn't even remember if she'd washed her face before she'd left, she'd been in such a panic to get out of there. Dean must think she was even more of a moron than he usually did.
"That's better," Dean said when she came back out. He was standing, slowly shuffling to the bed. "Does your head still hurt?"
"A little. Not as bad."
"Come here." He climbed onto the bed. Exhaled hard as he leaned against the upright back.
She hesitated, still feeling stupid. This whole day was insane. Cassie, Missouri, Dean, and now this officer. Everything was overwhelming, but that didn't mean she should fall apart the way she was doing. She needed to pull herself together, fast.
Dean pulled the blanket over him. He frowned at her. "Come here."
Now she hesitated because she didn't want him to think she followed orders. How dare he? Who did he think he was? He was her husband--and a pretend one at that--not her master.
Then a wave of dizziness spun her head. Maybe sitting down wasn't a bad idea.
Trying not to look like she was doing what he told her, Rachel went to the bed and climbed on. "Any word on Sam?"
Dean's arm snaked around her and pulled her onto his shoulder. "He woke up right after you left. He's fine."
"He's awake?" She moved to rise, but he yanked her back down.
"No, you stay here. You can see him when you calm down."
"Dean..."
"Have you eaten?"
She shook her head. "No, I slept through dinner I guess."
"And lunch."
"Probably. I don't remember. Where's Missouri?"
"She went out for food. She said she was going to go by your place to feed you." He frowned, thumb idly stroking her shoulder. "Maybe we should call."
Rachel laughed at his tone and turned her head. "You don't sound very excited by that idea."
"Dude, I just got rid of her. I was enjoying the silence."
Her lips quirked. "I bet you were. The two of you are kind of contentious, aren't you?"
He wrinkled his nose. "Ah, don't go pulling out your big college words on me. According to her, I'm just some dumb, goofy looking kid who can't do anything right."
"Poor baby." She kissed him gently.
"Well, if you keep treating me so good," Dean whispered, mouth inches from hers, "then it won't matter." His eyes closed, eyelashes brushed against her cheeks. Then his mouth was on hers again, warm and wet. Hand strong on her neck, holding her. The other one sliding up her arm, squeezing, pulling her closer, half on-top of him.
"Boy, don't you think that girl deserves a proper wedding night?"
Dean's hand tightened on her arm, hurting her. His kiss grew more intense, and he didn't stop.
Rachel gasped, entire body warming. Her toes curled as Dean's kissed grew more... more.... She couldn't even think of the word. Passionate, intense, hot, sexy, perfect. Everything. Missouri's eyes were hard on the back of her head, and she felt terrifically embarrassed and, yet, she couldn't get enough.
A throat cleared. Not Missouri's.
"Um... dinner."
It felt like she was tearing herself apart from Dean. Like they'd been stuck together, fused, more themselves as one than as two separate people.
She all but rolled off the bed and onto the floor.
An orderly stood just inside, dinner cart in front of her. She was blushing.
So was Rachel.
And the nurse stood right behind the orderly. He looked smug. As did Missouri.
"Are you, uh. Going to examine him or anything?" she asked Alex, the nurse.
He nodded. "Just a quick vitals check, then help him with his first solid meal since waking up."
Dean's hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist. He squeezed.
She turned, ready to tell him that she was going to check on Sam, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His eyes clearly said, "stay."
Rachel sighed and glanced at Missouri. The woman was holding a Wendy's bag. It smelled good.
Missouri suddenly stiffened. "Come here, Rachel. You let the man look your husband over. You come stand with me."
Dean let her go, allowing Rachel to cross the room to Missouri. The woman immediately stroked her hand through Rachel's hair, eyes closed tight.
"Oh dear," she sighed softly, just for Rachel's ear. "That demon is on the prowl. Hurt. Weakened. But trying hard like hell to get to you."
Rachel swallowed. "Why me?"
Missouri cocked her eyebrow. "To stop you from helping the Winchesters, of course. And because there's a lot a demon like him could accomplish in a girl like you. You'd be a real good place for him to gather his strength after he gets in. He just needs to get inside." She sighed and shook her head. "And we've definitely got to stop him from getting in."
Author
serafina20Rating R
Spoilers everything through Devil's Trap
Summary The Winchesters need help after the events of Devil's Trap. Luckily, Sam has made arrangements for this eventuality. He just failed to inform Rachel Adams of his plans. Sequel to Captured Soul and Kitsune
Pairing Dean/OFC
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Once, Rachel was able to get a full eight hours sleep without being woken. She was beginning to hate her phone. If she wasn't waiting for word on Sam, she'd have turned her cell off. Not that she thought Missouri or Dean would call if her Sam woke up. She just hoped.
This time, it wasn't her cell phone that woke her. It was the door.
She didn't wake at first. The knock blended into her dream and was easily ignored. Then it got louder. Rachel opened her eyes. Her head felt heavy and fuzzed, and entire body was sore with exhaustion.
The knock changed into a pound. A muffled voice called out her name.
No. Not her name. Mrs. Winchester.
Business, then. Probably the police. Couldn't ignore that.
With a groan, she forced herself out of bed. Somehow, she felt even more exhausted than she had before she went to bed. Probably because she'd given herself downtime. Always a mistake. Once you stopped, starting up again was hard.
"Officer Schmidt," she said on opening the door. "Is something wrong?"
The officer she'd met at the hospital smiled at her pleasantly. "Nothing wrong, no. I thought I'd bring by some of your friends' clothing that was in the car." He held up a black trash bag.
Personally? That was odd. "Thank you." She reached for the bag.
He pulled it away. "May I come in?"
Rachel grabbed the door and stepped back, ready to slam it. "Um, I'm not really..."
"Great!" He took advantage of her movement by pushing past her, walking into the room. "This is a nice place," he said. He put the trash bag on the couch. "I would have expected you to stay in a hotel. I was surprised to pull up in front of an apartment building."
"I figured I'd be here for awhile," she said, staying at the door. She slid her hand down to the doorknob. "My mom thought a furnished apartment would be more comfortable, especially when the guys are released from the hospital." Her heart pounded in her throat. "Officer..."
"Please, call me Adam."
She narrowed her eyes. When he moved closer to her, she could feel the air press against her skin, heavy and cold. "Officer," she said again, tightening her hand on the knob, "is there something you need to talk to me about? Other than the clothes?"
"I heard your husband woke up."
"He did. I assume you have questions for him."
"Of course."
"Tomorrow or the next day might be okay. He's really tired."
Schmidt nodded. "Of course. And how are you doing?" He took a few more steps toward her.
Rachel opened the door further, stepping partway behind it. It was minimal protection, but at least there was something between them. "Fine. A little tired. I was sleeping when you came."
"I can't imagine what you're going through." He walked over and put his hand on the door, holding it. "Have you eaten? I know a restaurant..."
"No," she gasped. Pain bloomed in her forehead, spreading out, like someone was hammering against the center. "I mean, no I haven't eaten, but I can't go out. It'd be, uh, a little inappropriate."
"I don't see how. It's not like I'm asking you on a date." He smiled and leaned closer.
The pain sparked brightly. "Aren't you investigating my husband?"
"Not exactly. Just trying to get a clear picture of what happened the night he was injured, that's all. And it'd hardly be gentlemanly if I let an investigation get in the way of making sure a beautiful young lady takes care of herself."
"I've got a friend. She's with the boys right now, but she should be home any minute."
"Are you sure..."
"Officer Schmidt, you need to leave," Rachel said, voice firm. "Right now. You're making me uncomfortable and I want you gone."
"But..."
"Go."
He sighed, but nodded. "I'm sorry. I never intended to upset you. Only to offer a hand." Before she could move, he reached out and touched her cheek gently.
Rachel yanked away and pushed the door closed. Schmidt allowed himself to be ushered out with it.
Two locks and a chain weren't enough. She was shaking. Her head pounded. She felt like she was going to throw up.
There was something wet on her upper lip. Her fingers came away with blood.
Heart thundering, Rachel crossed the living room. Ran to the window. Watched as the police officer climbed into his car and drove away.
Safer. She went to the bathroom and held tissue after tissue to her nose. As the pain in her head faded from sharply nauseating to dull and annoying, the flow slowed until it was a trickle and stopped.
Her reflection was pale. Dark circles were under her eyes. Her hands shook.
Not stopping to change clothes, Rachel grabbed her purse and practically flew the ten blocks to the hospital.
"Dean!" He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't there. What had happened, where...
"Jesus, what happened?"
And then she was in his arms. He had her, tightly, face in her hair, holding her while she tried to shake apart. Her chest burned with each gasp, down her chest, fire in her lungs. Sweat on her face, her back. Her shirt clung to her.
"Shhh. Calm down." Dean stepped back a couple steps and sat. He pulled her onto his lap, stroking her hair. "Breathe."
"I...I...I...I am," she gasped. Her head spun.
"No, you're not. Breathe, damnit."
She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. Her face was pressed into the crook of his neck. When she breathed in deep, she could smell the horrible, dull tang of antibiotic hospital soap. It was gross. Worse than if he smelled like body odor or something. At least then he'd smell like Dean.
She pressed harder into him, searching for skin that smelled like him.
"Uh." Dean cleared his throat. His fingers tightened on her hips. "Um, babe? Maybe you could stop? Wiggling and... nuzzling? Unless you're ready to take care of that whole virginity thing while I'm hooked up to a heart monitor, that is."
Startled, Rachel lifted her head. Dean's face was close, eyes dark.
She licked her lips.
Dean exhaled hard and moved in. Kissed her. Lips moving over hers, tongue inside her mouth, petting, stroking. Hands on her back, under her shirt, chasing drops of sweat that had rolled down, stroking them over her skin.
"You okay?" he asked, breaking the kiss. He was breathing heavily. Probably overstrained.
"Yeah. Just freaked." She licked her lips. "One of the cops I talked to the other day came by the apartment."
"You didn't let him in, did you?"
"He pushed by me. He didn't do anything, just... Brought by your guys' clothes. Asked me to dinner. Stupid, but he freaked me out."
"He asked you to dinner."
"Yeah."
"He asked you, *my wife*, to dinner."
She swallowed. "Yeah."
"What the hell, man?"
"I don't know. I don't know." Rachel rested her head on Dean's shoulder and closed her eyes.
He pulled her head away from his shoulder and studied her face. "What's with the blood?" His thumb brushed over the skin just above her upper lip.
"Oh." She touched it. "Um, I got a bloody nose. After the guy left."
"Anything else?"
"My head hut. Every time he moved closer to me, the pain got worse. I thought I was going to throw up, and then it faded."
"When he left."
"Yeah." She got off his lap and went into the small bathroom. There was blood staining her lips, chin, nostrils. She couldn't even remember if she'd washed her face before she'd left, she'd been in such a panic to get out of there. Dean must think she was even more of a moron than he usually did.
"That's better," Dean said when she came back out. He was standing, slowly shuffling to the bed. "Does your head still hurt?"
"A little. Not as bad."
"Come here." He climbed onto the bed. Exhaled hard as he leaned against the upright back.
She hesitated, still feeling stupid. This whole day was insane. Cassie, Missouri, Dean, and now this officer. Everything was overwhelming, but that didn't mean she should fall apart the way she was doing. She needed to pull herself together, fast.
Dean pulled the blanket over him. He frowned at her. "Come here."
Now she hesitated because she didn't want him to think she followed orders. How dare he? Who did he think he was? He was her husband--and a pretend one at that--not her master.
Then a wave of dizziness spun her head. Maybe sitting down wasn't a bad idea.
Trying not to look like she was doing what he told her, Rachel went to the bed and climbed on. "Any word on Sam?"
Dean's arm snaked around her and pulled her onto his shoulder. "He woke up right after you left. He's fine."
"He's awake?" She moved to rise, but he yanked her back down.
"No, you stay here. You can see him when you calm down."
"Dean..."
"Have you eaten?"
She shook her head. "No, I slept through dinner I guess."
"And lunch."
"Probably. I don't remember. Where's Missouri?"
"She went out for food. She said she was going to go by your place to feed you." He frowned, thumb idly stroking her shoulder. "Maybe we should call."
Rachel laughed at his tone and turned her head. "You don't sound very excited by that idea."
"Dude, I just got rid of her. I was enjoying the silence."
Her lips quirked. "I bet you were. The two of you are kind of contentious, aren't you?"
He wrinkled his nose. "Ah, don't go pulling out your big college words on me. According to her, I'm just some dumb, goofy looking kid who can't do anything right."
"Poor baby." She kissed him gently.
"Well, if you keep treating me so good," Dean whispered, mouth inches from hers, "then it won't matter." His eyes closed, eyelashes brushed against her cheeks. Then his mouth was on hers again, warm and wet. Hand strong on her neck, holding her. The other one sliding up her arm, squeezing, pulling her closer, half on-top of him.
"Boy, don't you think that girl deserves a proper wedding night?"
Dean's hand tightened on her arm, hurting her. His kiss grew more intense, and he didn't stop.
Rachel gasped, entire body warming. Her toes curled as Dean's kissed grew more... more.... She couldn't even think of the word. Passionate, intense, hot, sexy, perfect. Everything. Missouri's eyes were hard on the back of her head, and she felt terrifically embarrassed and, yet, she couldn't get enough.
A throat cleared. Not Missouri's.
"Um... dinner."
It felt like she was tearing herself apart from Dean. Like they'd been stuck together, fused, more themselves as one than as two separate people.
She all but rolled off the bed and onto the floor.
An orderly stood just inside, dinner cart in front of her. She was blushing.
So was Rachel.
And the nurse stood right behind the orderly. He looked smug. As did Missouri.
"Are you, uh. Going to examine him or anything?" she asked Alex, the nurse.
He nodded. "Just a quick vitals check, then help him with his first solid meal since waking up."
Dean's hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist. He squeezed.
She turned, ready to tell him that she was going to check on Sam, but the look in his eyes stopped her. His eyes clearly said, "stay."
Rachel sighed and glanced at Missouri. The woman was holding a Wendy's bag. It smelled good.
Missouri suddenly stiffened. "Come here, Rachel. You let the man look your husband over. You come stand with me."
Dean let her go, allowing Rachel to cross the room to Missouri. The woman immediately stroked her hand through Rachel's hair, eyes closed tight.
"Oh dear," she sighed softly, just for Rachel's ear. "That demon is on the prowl. Hurt. Weakened. But trying hard like hell to get to you."
Rachel swallowed. "Why me?"
Missouri cocked her eyebrow. "To stop you from helping the Winchesters, of course. And because there's a lot a demon like him could accomplish in a girl like you. You'd be a real good place for him to gather his strength after he gets in. He just needs to get inside." She sighed and shook her head. "And we've definitely got to stop him from getting in."
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Can't wait for more! (Now? Please? =)
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Thank you. I hate writing kisses; it always feels so awkward to me. Glad to know it doesn't read that way. :)
Thank you!
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/lame attempt at pimping for more.