Fic: Picking Up

[serafina20]

Title Picking Up
Author 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




"So," Sam said as he and Rachel walked the deserted path to Cooper's trailer. "We you ever going to tell us that you were there?"

Rachel's stomach twisted. "No," she said as evenly as she could. She refused to feel guilty about this. Especially when Sam had run away to supposedly protect her and Dean. Keeping a secret to do the same was hardly worse.

"Why not?"

"Because I didn't think you needed to know. My being there didn't change anything. Besides. I guess I was hoping you wouldn't realize what John had done."

"We're not..."

"I know you're not stupid, Sam," she interrupted softly. "It's just that sometimes, you've got to leave things alone. This is one of them. Your dad made a choice, and what's done is done."

He exhaled and ran his hand over his head. "I know. I still feel guilty, though." He stopped outside Cooper's trailer.

"Why?"

"Because I was fighting with him. Angry that he wasn't doing anything to help Dean." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And he did. He was. I just didn't have faith."

"It's hard to have faith when you've been disappointed before," said Rachel "And he was being secretive. Purposefully, but still. How were you to know?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. I just wish we hadn't be fighting. And now I just... I want to thank him. As much as I miss him, I'd miss Dean even more."

Rachel put his hand on his arm. "I know. And so did he." She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "No, go in there and check out the bed. Find out if this is our guy."

Sam nodded. Kissed her back, then moved a few steps away. "You know you look like Princess Leia with your hair like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just get inside, Luke." She pulled her cell phone from its clip and dialed his number once he was inside.

"It's clear," he said on answering. "Cooper's not here. And the door to his room is open."

"Good." Rachel pulled the gun from where she'd stuffed it down the back of her jeans. "Coast is clear out here."

"So far so good."

Sound of footsteps. Breathing. Sam clearing his throat, then...

"What the hell are you doing?"

Rachel almost dropped the phone. Worse, she almost squeezed off a round and she hadn't even realized her finger was on the trigger. Stupid. "Sam?"

She heard him babbling something. Then Cooper shouting.

"I'm coming, Sam," she said. She snapped the phone shut. Charged up the steps to Cooper's trailer. Ran smack into Sam as he flew out.

His hands were on her shoulders right away. Turning her. Propelling her. "Go. Run."

"But what about the..."

"He's not it. *Run*."

Right.

Rachel shoved the gun down the back of her jeans under the waistband and allowed Sam to propel her down the steps. Stumbled, but he grabbed her shirt and prevented her from doing a face dive.

"Should I call Dean?" she asked, once her feet were back under her. "Warn him?"

"No, it's fine. I don't know if he's after us, but he definitely thinks I'm some kind of perv or something. Christ." Sam rubbed his face as he ran. His hand was on Rachel's back. "So we're back to square one. Perfect. Where the hell is this demon?"

They pounded through the empty carnival. Dust rose with their every step.

Just ahead of them, Dean burst out of a trailer.

"Dean!" Rachel shouted.

Dean was bleeding. The sleeve of his jacket was sliced open, hand over it. Blood still seeped from between his fingers. When Rachel called out, his head snapped over to them. He leapt down the steps and in front of them. Grabbed her by the wrist. "It's him. The knife throwing dude. He disappeared on me. Started throwing knives."

"Where is he now?" Rachel asked.

"I don't..."

"Look out!" Sam threw himself at Dean. His body knocked into Rachel heavily, pushing her into Dean, and all three down.

As she fell, something sharp grazed her arm. Rachel bit her lower lip at the pain. The wind was knocked forcefully from her when she and Dean hit the ground. She grunted.

"Fuck," he groaned. He groaned louder when Sam fell on Rachel, doubling the weight.

"Ow," Rachel said. She glanced at her arm and the knife lying on the ground a few feet away.

"Smooth move," remarked Dean. "Thanks a lot."

Sam pushed himself off the pile. He was looking around warily. "I saw the knife. It's here."

"That's right," a voice said. "I am here. And look at the tasty meal waiting for me."

Rachel made a startled sound as Sam thrust his hand down the back of her pants. It wrapped around the handle of the gun. Tugged. Before it was clear, he shouted in pain and fell off her.

Dean pushed Rachel away. "Sam!"

Rachel didn't think. Didn't pause to look and see what had happened to Sam. Just pulled the gun from her jeans and lifted her head.

The Rakshasa was standing just a few feet away. There was a knife in his hand. Grin on his face.

He looked hungry.

His attention was on the boys. More meat, maybe, although she knew it wouldn't hesitate to eat her, too. But she wasn't the one who'd shot it last night. She wasn't the one he was going to play with.

She didn't play, anyway.

"Listen," Dean started. He pushed himself to his feet, slowly. "You don't want to eat us. We're bad meat. Stringy. Tough. You don't want that."

"Oh. I really think I do." He raised his arm, ready to throw another knife.

Rachel fired. Once. Twice. Again.

It screamed.

She fired again.

It kept screaming, writing, twisting until it... Popped and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

"Jesus," Dean swore. He turned. "Good girl."

Rachel smiled at him shakily. "Thanks." She pushed herself up. Wiped her face. "You okay?"

He nodded. Glanced down at his bleeding arm. "It's fine," he said. "Sammy?"

"I'm okay." He sat up. There was a knife in his shoulder. "Well, maybe not so okay. Fuck."

Rachel put the gun back in her waistband and crawled over to him. "That's deep. Lets get you back to the car so we can bandage it."

"Can you sew?" Dean asked.

"You're kidding."

He wasn't. "If it's deep enough, one needs to sew and the other hold him down. Can you do it?"

"We can take him to a hospital, Dean."

"Out here? Do you know where the nearest hospital is? Cause I sure don't."

"I don't want to sew him up!"

Dean shrugged, face impassive. "Then I'll do it. Not very well, but I can mange."

Rachel felt a sick, hard knot settle in the pit of her stomach. "This is what you do, isn't' it? Patch each other up on the road, only going to the hospital when..." She stopped, not wanting to say dying.

"Guys?" Sam said, sounding sick himself.

She let out a sigh. "Fine. I can sew. Just... let's go before he bleeds out?"

They settled on either side of Sam and headed back to the car. Sam kept his hand on the knife, still buried in his arm. Blood poured out around it, but it was better than if he pulled it out right now.

"I'm going to need better light," Rachel said once they were back in the car. She pushed Sam into the backseat while Dean dug the first aid kit from his duffel.

"I'll shine a flashlight," Dean said.

"I thought you were going to hold him."

"I'll be fine," Sam said. He was breathing heavily, sweat standing out on his face.

Rachel looked at him anxiously. "Are you sure?"

He gave her a smile. "Trust me. I'm used to this."

She nodded, not feeing reassured. "I'm going to pull the knife out." Heart in her throat, Rachel put her left hand around the knife. With her right, she slid it out of Sam's shoulder.

A hot rush of blood followed it. Rachel covered it, pressing hard with her fingers. They quickly became red and slippery. "Dean?"

He handed her a wet pad of gauze. The sharp smell of alcohol stung her nose. Breathing deeply and trying to control her shaking, she pressed the gauze against the wound. Cleaned it. Tried to ignore Sam's sharp intake of air. The pained noise in his throat.

"Okay. Needle?"

Dean handed her the needle already threaded. "It's sterilized," he said. He turned on the flashlight.

"Are you sure, Sam?"

"Are you any good a sewing?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm one of those freaks who makes historical costumes and hangs out with other people in costume. So, yeah. I do a lot of sewing."

"Then do it." He closed his eyes. Clenched his fists.

Rachel took a deep breath and sank the needle into Sam's flesh. Immediately a wave of nausea hit her. The smell of Sam's blood made her head spin. The feel of skin where she'd only felt cloth was sickening. And Sam made another noise, which brought tears to Rachel's eyes.

This was so wrong. She wasn't a doctor. She couldn't this.

Her hands started to shake.

"Hey," Dean said. He loosely wrapped his arm around Rachel's neck and kissed her as close to her mouth as he could reach. "You're doing fine. Just keep going, babe."

Rachel nodded. Took another breath. Went back to sewing.

It took a little over ten minutes. She kept having to wipe her hands off on her jeans. A couple of times she forgot herself and wiped her face, and she knew she had blood on it now. Dangerous, but she wasn't thinking straight. Besides. She didn't think Sam had any diseases.

"Okay," she said once she was at the end of the cut. She finished it off, then accepted the scissors Dean handed her to cut the thread "There." She sat back from Sam, into Dean's embrace. "All right. It's over." And then, although she really wanted was to get up and act like nothing had happened, or even go throw up in the bushes, all the sudden, there was a roar in her in ears. Her head spun and, quite abruptly, everything went black.

Comments

[miconic.livejournal.com]

Eeek! What the frell?!

OK, in a simlar position, with blood in my hands, I would faint away too but dude, she's with the Winchesters ;o) This take is clearly a shift away from canon and it works. Brass bullets, hey. Trust Dean to sew it into jackets, etc. They can be that wacky.

I also see that you speeded up the Demon-dealing-John. Hmm. Verrah interesting :o)

Great read so far. Thanks for sharing and updating so fast!