Fic: Picking Up
Nov. 14th, 2006 10:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Title Picking Up
Author![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
serafina20
Fandom SPN
Pairing Dean/OFC
Rating Mature
Summary Dean and Rachel search for Sam.
Series Captured Soul, Kitsune, Another Kind of Trap, and The Greater Good.
Spoilers In My Time of Dying, Everybody Loves a Clown
Previous Parts
Dean watched as the blue sedan pulled to a stop on the side of the road, blocking his and Sam's path. The engine cut. Door opened.
"Well. Look what I found." Rachel leaned against the roof of the car and rested her chin on the top. Either she'd grown since they'd parted, or she was standing on the car.
Dean and Sam exchanged looks.
"You boys need a ride?"
"Oh, God, please stop."
"I've got plenty of room," she continued with a dirty little smile.
Dean dropped his duffle and circled the car. Before she could say anything else, he had her pressed against the side door . Mouth over hers, stopping her from talking.
"Is it sad that I missed you?" Rachel whispered when he let her talk again.
He ran his thumb over her cheek. "Naw." He kissed her again, then let her down. "How's your head?"
"Better. But I'm falling asleep at the wheel." She pressed the keys into his hand.
He tossed them over to Sam. "Bad enough I had to drive that soccer mom monstrosity. Now you want me to drive this piece of shit?"
"Now, now, nothing wrong with this car," Sam said. At least it drives."
"You have no taste. " Dean opened the backseat, tossed his duffle in the back, and slid in.
"You two talk?" Rachel asked.
"About you."
Her eyes narrowed. "Me? What about the stuff you two need to talk about?"
Sam just shook his head. Then he climbed into the car.
Rachel got into the back. She started to buckle in, but Dean grabbed her arm. Pulled her down to him.
"Dean..."
"You need to rest."
She sighed. Relaxed against him. "So. You shot a kid's clown?"
Sam snorted. "Not one of our shining moments. The parents never saw it. The kid was screaming her head off, and Dean and I looked like your typical house robbing murderers."
"Except we didn't take anything," Dean pointed out.
"Or kill anyone," said Rachel.
"Not even the clown." Sam sighed.
"So what are we going to do?" asked Rachel.
Dean shrugged. "Go back to the carnival. Find the thing and kill it."
"Any clue as to who it is?"
"I think it's probably Mr. Cooper. He runs the carnival. And there were similar murders in the past around the carnival. Make sense, right?"
"No argument here. But maybe we should look for proof before we go up and stab him."
He snorted and combed his fingers through her hair. He really liked it when she wore her hair loose, especially since it was so long now. When they'd met, it'd been somewhere in the middle of her back; now it was almost to her waist. She rarely wore it loose, though. It was always back in braids. But right now, it was free and he couldn't stop playing with it.
"Yeah, don't worry. We'll check."
"What about the knife?"
"Dean thinks that the Amazing Papazian might have a brass knife. He's going to check while I check out Cooper's living space," Sam said.
Rachel frowned and asked, "Who?"
"The blind knife throwing guy."
"Ah." She sort of snuggled down onto his chest. "What do I do?"
"Stay in the car?" Dean suggested.
She just laughed.
"Stick with me?"
"That I can do." She tilted her head back.
He kissed her nose.
"So," Sam said. "What did you think of the Roadhouse?"
Rachel turned onto her back. Took Dean's free hand in hers. "Fine, I guess. I got there when business was starting up. The crowd seems a bit unsavory, but they're all hunters, I guess."
"You saying hunters are unsavory?"
"Not the Winchesters. But others? I don't know. I can only imagine what hunting these things without having a greater purpose does to a person. You know? You guys always had the demon to keep you focused. Even if John wasn't the cuddliest of men, he was a decent man at heart. Took good care of you guys. I don't think he let the darkness get to him. But the rest? I'm just not sure. It's a hard life."
Dean cleared his throat. "What do you know about it?"
"Not much. Just theorizing. But, anyway. Ellen seemed nice. Strong. Oh! And that Ash guy? My brother sent him my search program, and he went through and fixed some of the coding for me."
"He knows your brother?" said Sam.
Rachel sighed. "Yes. Biblically."
There was a moment's silence. Then it clicked in Dean's head.
"Wait. This dude slept with your brother?"
"I really don't want to think about it," she said flatly. "Anyway. Jo's kind of a handful, you know?"
"I barely met her."
"Her?"
Rachel nodded. "The daughter. Gorgeous. Fantastic hair. I mean, my God. It's like she stepped out of a shampoo commercial or something. Or a Cover Girl ad. It's amazing. I'd kill for hair like hers."
"I like your hair," Dean said. He nuzzled the top of her head.
"No, you don't understand. This like perfect. Petite. Blonde. Great figure. Disney movie hair."
"You know," he said, not sure whether to be annoyed or aroused, "it almost sounds like you've got a crush on her."
She shook her head. "I wish I was invisible around her. But she might have a crush on me. Didn't leave my side for a moment. Even sat in the bathroom while I was in the shower."
Aroused. Yeah, definitely. Because, even if this Jo turned out to be a dog, the thought of another girl with his? Totally hot.
"Um," Sam said after a moment. "Wow. Okay."
"Her mom thinks it's because women don't generally come by. I guess there aren't many female hunters."
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of a bar where hunters hang out. A whole world of demon hunters. I mean, Dad never said a word about it."
"Maybe he was trying to keep you and Sam away from them."
"Why?" asked Sam.
"I don't know. Keep you safe."
He frowned. Held her tighter and glanced up at Sammy in the front seat. Keep them safe. Keep *him* safe, Sam. Because, yeah, the last thing Dad ever would have wanted to do was to introduce Sam to a bunch of people whose lives centered around killing the supernatural. Killing things like...
Not like Sam. Evil things. Sam wasn't evil.
But, somehow, Dean didn't think there was a lot of room for shades of grey in these guy's lives. These things hunted you back. Tried to kill you. Took over everything about you. So, when one of them had a vision in your bar, you don't stop to ask questions. You just go in for the kill.
So. After this job was over, no way was Dean letting Sam back near that bar.
* * *
"Dude."
Something hit Sam in the head. He jerked, eyes snapping open.
"I think it's green."
He blinked his eyes, trying to clear the fuzziness. "Uh. It's a stop sign, Dean," he said on seeing where they were.
In the back seat, Dean snorted. "Yeah, but you've been sitting at it for, like, five minutes now. It's as green as it's going to get."
Sam tried to wrap his mind around that and failed. He pulled his head away from the back of the seat; it felt like his hair was stuck to it. "Dean, I'm wiped out," he admitted. He rubbed his eyes, head falling back again. "I need sleep."
"Yeah, I'm not doing so awake, either. And she's out."
"'m not," Rachel said, voice muffled.
"Are too."
The only answer was a light snore.
"There a motel nearby?" asked Dean.
Sam rubbed his eyes and looked. "I think there's one down the road."
"Let's go. We're not going to get this thing until tomorrow, anyway. Can't just waltz into their room and be all... Let's just get a room."
"Yeah. Okay." He closed his eyes.
Dean threw something else at him, hitting him in the head.
"Okay, I'm going!" He hit the gas and drove down the road to the motel.
Dean was asleep again by the time he pulled into the parking lot. This left Sam to negotiate the nighttime manager behind the desk. Manager being an over exaggerated term for young punk too dumb to flunk out of college. The kid barely managed to check two adjoining rooms out to Sam (who was giving Rachel and Dean every chance to be alone he could, supporting the cause and all that), so focused was he on late-night reruns of 'Cops'. It took ten excruciating minutes while the kid hunt and pecked his way over the keyboard, glancing up every two seconds to see his show, then search through the drawer for the keys, then ring Sam up before he wished him a, "Nice.... Oh, cool!"
Sam didn't remember much after that. He must have made it back to the car, then to the room safely because, the next thing he knew, it was almost one in the afternoon and Dean was shaking him awake.
He blinked. Frowned. "What?"
"I'm going out for coffee and food. Rachel's in the shower. Don't perv on her."
"You're such an ass."
Dean drummed on his head, grinned, and walked away.
"Did you finally get laid!" Sam couldn't help shouting after him.
Oh, yeah. That took the spring out of his step.
God. *Sam* was an ass.
After a few minutes of lying in bed, beating himself up, Sam forced himself up. Two rooms was definitely an improvement. Two rooms meant two bathrooms which meant no waiting. Also? Long, hot shower.
There'd been a lot of things that'd sucked when he'd run off. Having his own shower? Wasn't one of them.
By the time he'd gotten out and dressed, Rachel was in the other room, singing.
Sam knocked on the cracked-open door between their rooms. "Rach? You decent?"
"Yeah, come on in."
He pushed open the door and entered.
Rachel was sitting in the center of the bed, watching Rent on TV and singing along as she combed her hair.
"You're chipper this morning." He sat.
Rachel shrugged. "Good night's sleep. You know, I was actually kind of scared about sleeping away from him? Stupid, but it's been, what? Almost two weeks?"
"Yeah. About a month after we moved in together, Jess went on this leadership retreat," said Sam. "It was just a weekend, but, God. I couldn't sleep that whole time. I just kept missing her. My leg would stray onto her side of the bed, and I'd wake up. I'd roll over to hold her, and she wouldn't be there." He bit his lip. "It was worse..." His throat closed.
She didn't say anything, just reached over and squeezed his hand.
To his horror, his eyes suddenly misted. Because it wasn't just Jess anymore. It was Dad, too. And Pastor Jim and Caleb and, God, even Meg. Meg, who he never even really got to know because she'd been possessed from that first moment.
"God," he said, and tears were falling now, and he couldn't stop them. He was just glad Dean wasn't here.
And glad they had Rachel. Because she had her arms around him and, thank God, turned off the stupid movie. And just held him, let him cry, didn't even say anything.
"Thanks," he said. He pulled away. Wiped his eyes. "God, I'm sorry."
To his surprise--although, he didn't know why--Rachel's eyes were wet and red, too. There were still tears rolling down her face.
He reached out and wiped one away with his thumb. "I'm sorry," he said again.
"It's fine." She sniffed. "God knows, you need it." She clenched her jaw. Clicked her teeth. Shook her head. "I'm so sorry. About John." Her voice trembled when she said his name.
"I just don't know what to do or how to feel, you know? Like... Shit. I was always so mad at him. And we were still fighting, right before he died. Like, I was trying to pick a fight, and he's the one who stopped it. That *never* happened, but it did and... Why? If he hadn't died, what would have happened? Would we have, like, stopped fighting?"
Rachel snorted. "No."
"How do you know?"
She wouldn't look at him. "He was happy Dean was awake. His family was okay. He didn't want to fight."
Sam snorted. "Dad was always ready for a fight."
"But he didn't want to."
He pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead. "I feel like I failed him every day of my life and now... now he's gone. And I don't have a second chance."
"Is that why you took his job?"
He nodded. Swiped his nose with his sleeve. "I guess. Yeah. God, I hate clowns." He sniffed and wiped his nose again. "One time, I was seven. And Dad had been on a hunt. We were with Pastor Jim, and Pastor Jim didn't know that Dean stayed up this one night to watch this stupid fucking movie. 'Killer Clowns from Outer Space.' And he told me to stay in bed, but I snuck in and watched it too. Scared the crap out of me. Anyway, Dad comes home, and there's this carnival in town. So he takes us. And I was fine. Until a clown jumped in front of me."
Rachel laughed. "What happened?"
"I screamed, I flipped out, and I punched the damn thing in the nose." He sniffed. Laughed. "I kind of think Dad was proud." He felt his face crumple. "I just felt, most of my life, that I couldn't make him proud, you know?"
"That's bullshit. You know it. At least I hope you know it." She wiped her eyes again. "Your dad loved you and Dean so much. He'd do anything for you guys."
"No. He'd do anything to get the..."
"He'd do it for you," Rachel said, voice hard. No arguments. "You and Dean."
Sam swallowed and looked away, unable to meet her eyes, so strong was her conviction. "You barely knew dad."
"I didn't know him long. But we..." She faltered, before deciding on, "Had a sort of understanding." Rachel reached out and touched Sam's face. "He love you. And he was proud of you. And he will continue be proud of you, no matter what you do."
He sighed. Laid back on the bed and closed his eyes. "I hope so. Because God if I know what to do anymore."
It was her turn to sigh. The bed shifted as she laid out next to him. "None of us do. And I'm not just talking about you, me, and Dean. I mean no one knows what they're doing." She clapped her arm on his thigh. "If you'd've stuck around a little longer at Stanford, you would have seen some major meltdowns as people freaked out about what they were going to do. I had a few meltdowns myself. Just... what the hell am I doing with my life? What am I going to do? I'm out of college with no plans. I don't want to do what I was supposed to do. But Dean doesn't want me, and..."
"Dean wants you." He rolled onto his side and looked at her. "Why haven't you too slept together yet?"
Rachel stared at the ceiling, but Sam had the feeling she wasn't seeing anything. And there were tears streaming from her eyes again. "It's too dangerous," she whispered.
And then Dean came in, and Sam was left to mull that over.
Author
serafina20Fandom SPN
Pairing Dean/OFC
Rating Mature
Summary Dean and Rachel search for Sam.
Series Captured Soul, Kitsune, Another Kind of Trap, and The Greater Good.
Spoilers In My Time of Dying, Everybody Loves a Clown
Previous Parts
Dean watched as the blue sedan pulled to a stop on the side of the road, blocking his and Sam's path. The engine cut. Door opened.
"Well. Look what I found." Rachel leaned against the roof of the car and rested her chin on the top. Either she'd grown since they'd parted, or she was standing on the car.
Dean and Sam exchanged looks.
"You boys need a ride?"
"Oh, God, please stop."
"I've got plenty of room," she continued with a dirty little smile.
Dean dropped his duffle and circled the car. Before she could say anything else, he had her pressed against the side door . Mouth over hers, stopping her from talking.
"Is it sad that I missed you?" Rachel whispered when he let her talk again.
He ran his thumb over her cheek. "Naw." He kissed her again, then let her down. "How's your head?"
"Better. But I'm falling asleep at the wheel." She pressed the keys into his hand.
He tossed them over to Sam. "Bad enough I had to drive that soccer mom monstrosity. Now you want me to drive this piece of shit?"
"Now, now, nothing wrong with this car," Sam said. At least it drives."
"You have no taste. " Dean opened the backseat, tossed his duffle in the back, and slid in.
"You two talk?" Rachel asked.
"About you."
Her eyes narrowed. "Me? What about the stuff you two need to talk about?"
Sam just shook his head. Then he climbed into the car.
Rachel got into the back. She started to buckle in, but Dean grabbed her arm. Pulled her down to him.
"Dean..."
"You need to rest."
She sighed. Relaxed against him. "So. You shot a kid's clown?"
Sam snorted. "Not one of our shining moments. The parents never saw it. The kid was screaming her head off, and Dean and I looked like your typical house robbing murderers."
"Except we didn't take anything," Dean pointed out.
"Or kill anyone," said Rachel.
"Not even the clown." Sam sighed.
"So what are we going to do?" asked Rachel.
Dean shrugged. "Go back to the carnival. Find the thing and kill it."
"Any clue as to who it is?"
"I think it's probably Mr. Cooper. He runs the carnival. And there were similar murders in the past around the carnival. Make sense, right?"
"No argument here. But maybe we should look for proof before we go up and stab him."
He snorted and combed his fingers through her hair. He really liked it when she wore her hair loose, especially since it was so long now. When they'd met, it'd been somewhere in the middle of her back; now it was almost to her waist. She rarely wore it loose, though. It was always back in braids. But right now, it was free and he couldn't stop playing with it.
"Yeah, don't worry. We'll check."
"What about the knife?"
"Dean thinks that the Amazing Papazian might have a brass knife. He's going to check while I check out Cooper's living space," Sam said.
Rachel frowned and asked, "Who?"
"The blind knife throwing guy."
"Ah." She sort of snuggled down onto his chest. "What do I do?"
"Stay in the car?" Dean suggested.
She just laughed.
"Stick with me?"
"That I can do." She tilted her head back.
He kissed her nose.
"So," Sam said. "What did you think of the Roadhouse?"
Rachel turned onto her back. Took Dean's free hand in hers. "Fine, I guess. I got there when business was starting up. The crowd seems a bit unsavory, but they're all hunters, I guess."
"You saying hunters are unsavory?"
"Not the Winchesters. But others? I don't know. I can only imagine what hunting these things without having a greater purpose does to a person. You know? You guys always had the demon to keep you focused. Even if John wasn't the cuddliest of men, he was a decent man at heart. Took good care of you guys. I don't think he let the darkness get to him. But the rest? I'm just not sure. It's a hard life."
Dean cleared his throat. "What do you know about it?"
"Not much. Just theorizing. But, anyway. Ellen seemed nice. Strong. Oh! And that Ash guy? My brother sent him my search program, and he went through and fixed some of the coding for me."
"He knows your brother?" said Sam.
Rachel sighed. "Yes. Biblically."
There was a moment's silence. Then it clicked in Dean's head.
"Wait. This dude slept with your brother?"
"I really don't want to think about it," she said flatly. "Anyway. Jo's kind of a handful, you know?"
"I barely met her."
"Her?"
Rachel nodded. "The daughter. Gorgeous. Fantastic hair. I mean, my God. It's like she stepped out of a shampoo commercial or something. Or a Cover Girl ad. It's amazing. I'd kill for hair like hers."
"I like your hair," Dean said. He nuzzled the top of her head.
"No, you don't understand. This like perfect. Petite. Blonde. Great figure. Disney movie hair."
"You know," he said, not sure whether to be annoyed or aroused, "it almost sounds like you've got a crush on her."
She shook her head. "I wish I was invisible around her. But she might have a crush on me. Didn't leave my side for a moment. Even sat in the bathroom while I was in the shower."
Aroused. Yeah, definitely. Because, even if this Jo turned out to be a dog, the thought of another girl with his? Totally hot.
"Um," Sam said after a moment. "Wow. Okay."
"Her mom thinks it's because women don't generally come by. I guess there aren't many female hunters."
Dean shrugged. "Yeah, well, I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the idea of a bar where hunters hang out. A whole world of demon hunters. I mean, Dad never said a word about it."
"Maybe he was trying to keep you and Sam away from them."
"Why?" asked Sam.
"I don't know. Keep you safe."
He frowned. Held her tighter and glanced up at Sammy in the front seat. Keep them safe. Keep *him* safe, Sam. Because, yeah, the last thing Dad ever would have wanted to do was to introduce Sam to a bunch of people whose lives centered around killing the supernatural. Killing things like...
Not like Sam. Evil things. Sam wasn't evil.
But, somehow, Dean didn't think there was a lot of room for shades of grey in these guy's lives. These things hunted you back. Tried to kill you. Took over everything about you. So, when one of them had a vision in your bar, you don't stop to ask questions. You just go in for the kill.
So. After this job was over, no way was Dean letting Sam back near that bar.
* * *
"Dude."
Something hit Sam in the head. He jerked, eyes snapping open.
"I think it's green."
He blinked his eyes, trying to clear the fuzziness. "Uh. It's a stop sign, Dean," he said on seeing where they were.
In the back seat, Dean snorted. "Yeah, but you've been sitting at it for, like, five minutes now. It's as green as it's going to get."
Sam tried to wrap his mind around that and failed. He pulled his head away from the back of the seat; it felt like his hair was stuck to it. "Dean, I'm wiped out," he admitted. He rubbed his eyes, head falling back again. "I need sleep."
"Yeah, I'm not doing so awake, either. And she's out."
"'m not," Rachel said, voice muffled.
"Are too."
The only answer was a light snore.
"There a motel nearby?" asked Dean.
Sam rubbed his eyes and looked. "I think there's one down the road."
"Let's go. We're not going to get this thing until tomorrow, anyway. Can't just waltz into their room and be all... Let's just get a room."
"Yeah. Okay." He closed his eyes.
Dean threw something else at him, hitting him in the head.
"Okay, I'm going!" He hit the gas and drove down the road to the motel.
Dean was asleep again by the time he pulled into the parking lot. This left Sam to negotiate the nighttime manager behind the desk. Manager being an over exaggerated term for young punk too dumb to flunk out of college. The kid barely managed to check two adjoining rooms out to Sam (who was giving Rachel and Dean every chance to be alone he could, supporting the cause and all that), so focused was he on late-night reruns of 'Cops'. It took ten excruciating minutes while the kid hunt and pecked his way over the keyboard, glancing up every two seconds to see his show, then search through the drawer for the keys, then ring Sam up before he wished him a, "Nice.... Oh, cool!"
Sam didn't remember much after that. He must have made it back to the car, then to the room safely because, the next thing he knew, it was almost one in the afternoon and Dean was shaking him awake.
He blinked. Frowned. "What?"
"I'm going out for coffee and food. Rachel's in the shower. Don't perv on her."
"You're such an ass."
Dean drummed on his head, grinned, and walked away.
"Did you finally get laid!" Sam couldn't help shouting after him.
Oh, yeah. That took the spring out of his step.
God. *Sam* was an ass.
After a few minutes of lying in bed, beating himself up, Sam forced himself up. Two rooms was definitely an improvement. Two rooms meant two bathrooms which meant no waiting. Also? Long, hot shower.
There'd been a lot of things that'd sucked when he'd run off. Having his own shower? Wasn't one of them.
By the time he'd gotten out and dressed, Rachel was in the other room, singing.
Sam knocked on the cracked-open door between their rooms. "Rach? You decent?"
"Yeah, come on in."
He pushed open the door and entered.
Rachel was sitting in the center of the bed, watching Rent on TV and singing along as she combed her hair.
"You're chipper this morning." He sat.
Rachel shrugged. "Good night's sleep. You know, I was actually kind of scared about sleeping away from him? Stupid, but it's been, what? Almost two weeks?"
"Yeah. About a month after we moved in together, Jess went on this leadership retreat," said Sam. "It was just a weekend, but, God. I couldn't sleep that whole time. I just kept missing her. My leg would stray onto her side of the bed, and I'd wake up. I'd roll over to hold her, and she wouldn't be there." He bit his lip. "It was worse..." His throat closed.
She didn't say anything, just reached over and squeezed his hand.
To his horror, his eyes suddenly misted. Because it wasn't just Jess anymore. It was Dad, too. And Pastor Jim and Caleb and, God, even Meg. Meg, who he never even really got to know because she'd been possessed from that first moment.
"God," he said, and tears were falling now, and he couldn't stop them. He was just glad Dean wasn't here.
And glad they had Rachel. Because she had her arms around him and, thank God, turned off the stupid movie. And just held him, let him cry, didn't even say anything.
"Thanks," he said. He pulled away. Wiped his eyes. "God, I'm sorry."
To his surprise--although, he didn't know why--Rachel's eyes were wet and red, too. There were still tears rolling down her face.
He reached out and wiped one away with his thumb. "I'm sorry," he said again.
"It's fine." She sniffed. "God knows, you need it." She clenched her jaw. Clicked her teeth. Shook her head. "I'm so sorry. About John." Her voice trembled when she said his name.
"I just don't know what to do or how to feel, you know? Like... Shit. I was always so mad at him. And we were still fighting, right before he died. Like, I was trying to pick a fight, and he's the one who stopped it. That *never* happened, but it did and... Why? If he hadn't died, what would have happened? Would we have, like, stopped fighting?"
Rachel snorted. "No."
"How do you know?"
She wouldn't look at him. "He was happy Dean was awake. His family was okay. He didn't want to fight."
Sam snorted. "Dad was always ready for a fight."
"But he didn't want to."
He pressed the heels of his hands against his forehead. "I feel like I failed him every day of my life and now... now he's gone. And I don't have a second chance."
"Is that why you took his job?"
He nodded. Swiped his nose with his sleeve. "I guess. Yeah. God, I hate clowns." He sniffed and wiped his nose again. "One time, I was seven. And Dad had been on a hunt. We were with Pastor Jim, and Pastor Jim didn't know that Dean stayed up this one night to watch this stupid fucking movie. 'Killer Clowns from Outer Space.' And he told me to stay in bed, but I snuck in and watched it too. Scared the crap out of me. Anyway, Dad comes home, and there's this carnival in town. So he takes us. And I was fine. Until a clown jumped in front of me."
Rachel laughed. "What happened?"
"I screamed, I flipped out, and I punched the damn thing in the nose." He sniffed. Laughed. "I kind of think Dad was proud." He felt his face crumple. "I just felt, most of my life, that I couldn't make him proud, you know?"
"That's bullshit. You know it. At least I hope you know it." She wiped her eyes again. "Your dad loved you and Dean so much. He'd do anything for you guys."
"No. He'd do anything to get the..."
"He'd do it for you," Rachel said, voice hard. No arguments. "You and Dean."
Sam swallowed and looked away, unable to meet her eyes, so strong was her conviction. "You barely knew dad."
"I didn't know him long. But we..." She faltered, before deciding on, "Had a sort of understanding." Rachel reached out and touched Sam's face. "He love you. And he was proud of you. And he will continue be proud of you, no matter what you do."
He sighed. Laid back on the bed and closed his eyes. "I hope so. Because God if I know what to do anymore."
It was her turn to sigh. The bed shifted as she laid out next to him. "None of us do. And I'm not just talking about you, me, and Dean. I mean no one knows what they're doing." She clapped her arm on his thigh. "If you'd've stuck around a little longer at Stanford, you would have seen some major meltdowns as people freaked out about what they were going to do. I had a few meltdowns myself. Just... what the hell am I doing with my life? What am I going to do? I'm out of college with no plans. I don't want to do what I was supposed to do. But Dean doesn't want me, and..."
"Dean wants you." He rolled onto his side and looked at her. "Why haven't you too slept together yet?"
Rachel stared at the ceiling, but Sam had the feeling she wasn't seeing anything. And there were tears streaming from her eyes again. "It's too dangerous," she whispered.
And then Dean came in, and Sam was left to mull that over.
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shiny hair
Date: 2006-11-15 06:26 pm (UTC)Re: shiny hair
Date: 2006-11-16 03:22 am (UTC)Yeah, I really like her hair. :)
I just catch it on occasion and read summaries on TWOP, so reading your story is a great way to see what's going on with the show from another view.
Glad I could give that point of view. I'm not sure what to think of Jo on the show yet, except she's a lot like Rachel in some ways (although more of a hunter than a scholar). It's hard to think of ways to work her in.
Anyway, thanks for the feedback!
no subject
Date: 2006-11-16 12:56 pm (UTC)Have I told you lately how much I like your 'Weaving of Rachel'? :o) It's seamless, like cut scenes from the current season. It still works, it still rocks.
Thank you! Carry on, now.