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



"I still can't believe I fainted," Rachel said. She tossed her duffel on the bed and collapsed beside it.

Dean rolled is eyes and pushed the door closed behind him. "Jesus, it happened two days ago. Get over it."

"A day and a half," Rachel corrected, not opening her eyes. "And I've never fainted before in my life. It's humiliating."

"At least you managed to wait until after the demon was dead and Sam was patched up. It's not like you inconvenienced us."

"Good thing. I'd hate to be an inconvenience." She sighed. "I've never fainted."

Dean groaned. Belly flopped on top of her. "Shut up about it all ready!" he said. He combed his fingers through her hair and bit her lower lip. "Don't you ever talk about anything else?"

Her eyes opened. "So, Jo sure seemed to like you."

Definitely not something he wanted to talk about. Without replying, he pushed off her. His bag was on the floor. Since they were stuck at Bobby's again until the car was fixed, he might as well unpack. They were as close to settled as they probably every would be.

"She was totally hitting on you," Rachel said. She sat up. Leaned against the wall. "I didn't like that."

"Yeah, well. I wasn't too thrilled."

"Liar."

He turned from the dresser to look at her. "You serious?"

She shrugged. "I just don't see why she didn't hit on Sam. I mean, he's got that whole adorable thing going for him. And he's super smart. Who wouldn't want that?"

Dean wasn't often jealous of his brother. And never over women since they weren't usually attracted to the same types. Plus, when Sam had been seventeen and Dean was twenty-one, it hadn't really been an issue. Sammy had been interested in girls his age, and Dean hadn't wanted to get arrested for statutory rape.

Now, though? Now it could be an issue. Because it had occurred to him many, many times that Rachel was a super smart college girl with a lot more in common with Sam than himself. And then there'd been that whole thing back at the hospital, where Sam kept having dreams about her. Maybe it hadn't just been the demon. Maybe part of it had been Sam.

And maybe Dean should just step aside and let the two people who belonged together be together.

"Maybe she just has good taste," he finally said, taking refuge in a joke, not wanting to get into it.

Rachel threw a pillow at him.

He batted it away easily.

"I just mean, you're involved with someone. And she hit on you."

"She hit on you, too," he pointed out. He threw the last of his clothes in the drawer and slammed it shut. "You don't hear me complaining."

"That's because you're a perv." She smiled, so at least she wasn't bitchy anymore.

Still. He couldn't help but say, "It's not like she knew I was involved. I mean, it's not like you spent any time around me when we got back to the Roadhouse. You were too busy with that Ash dude. And it's not like we've got our names tattooed on each other or even, hey, got something like a fucking wedding ring so people know!" He grabbed her left hand and shoved it in her face. "Where's your ring?"

Rachel blinked. Her face went bone white, then flush. She averted her eyes. "I took it off," she mumbled.

"Why?"

Her lower lip trembled, but Dean was too pissed to feel the slightest bit sorry. He couldn't even remember getting angry. Just, one minute he was fine and the next he... he just wasn't.

Every second he'd been around her since the ring had disappeared, he'd wanted to throttle her. Which was rather disturbing.

"I just..." There were tears in her eyes. She yanked her hand away and got off the bed. "It's not like it means anything."

"What?"

"Dean..."

"It's a wedding ring, Rachel. Of course it means something."

She whirled to face him. "We never got married! It was a stupid trick Sam tried to pull on you. The only reason we have them was to make everyone think..."

He went to her. Grabbed her by the wrists. Had her pinned to the wall before he thought about it. "Just because we never had a ceremony doesn't mean it's not real."

Rachel's eyes closed. A tear fell from her eyes and down her cheek. "Dean. Listen, I..."

Suddenly, he didn't want to hear it. Because he knew that tone of voice. That was the break-up tone. The good-bye tone.

Dean was tired of good-bye.

"I'm going to work on the car," he said.

"Dean..."

He ignored her. Went to the door.

It wouldn't open.

"What the hell?" He twisted the knob and tried again.

It didn't budge.

"What's wrong?" Rachel crossed over to him. "Let me try."

"Right," he snorted. "Like you can get it." He slammed his shoulder against it while twisting the knob. "Fuck!"

She shoved him. "Move!" She jiggled the knob. Kicked the door. Pushed against it.

"Wow, look at that," he deadpanned. "You really showed that door."

Rachel gave him a look, then turned back to the door. "Sam!" she shouted. Pounded her palm against the door. Kicked it. "Samuel Adrian Winchester, you get your ass over here right now and open the fucking door!"

"What?" She'd flipped.

"The door isn't locked, Dean. There's a deadbolt on the other side or something. Sam!"

What she said made sense. There was no lock on the door, and unless it was some demon...

He hit the door with the side of his fist. "Sam!"

"Jesus, I go to the bathroom for a minute," Sam said from the other side. "Stop yelling."

"Then open the door," Dean said. He twisted the knob again.

"Yeah, not so much," he replied.

"What?" Rachel all but shrieked.

"Calm down. I'm not saying you're in there forever or anything. But you two need to talk, and I thought this was the best way to do it."

He and Rachel exchanged looks.

"We don't need to talk," said Rachel. "We're fine. Let us out."

"Bull. The two of you are long overdue."

"Sam," Dean said, as voice low and menacing as he could make it.

"Here's the thing," Sam said, like he hadn't heard. "You two are totally stupid in love with each other. Dean, when you were having your whole out of body experience? The two of you practically had sex in your room over a game bored."

"Sam!" This time it was a screech.

"So I find it funny that the two of you haven't had sex yet."

Rachel moaned. Turned around and slid to the floor, hiding her face.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Sam, I don't think this is any of your business. This isn't funny."

"It's not meant to be funny. I want the two of you to sit down and..."

"What, fuck?" Dean interrupted. "You're my pimp now?"

"No! Look, if the two of you sit down and talk and decide that you don't want sex in your relationship, fine. I don't think it's plausible, but fine. At least you'll have talked. But you need to talk. Because, Rachel? Dean says he understands why you don't want to sleep with him. That it's all your decision, and he's not going to push and he understands."

Rachel looked up at Dean.

"And Dean? Rachel says it's too dangerous for you guys to sleep together. I don't know what that means."

Dean frowned at Rachel.

There was silence.

"Okay," Sam said after a moment. "I take it by your silence that you're waiting for me to leave. So, I'm going to go meet Bobby at the bar, and we'll be back sometime tonight." Another silence. "Okay. Bye."

Dean heard footsteps down the hall. The front door opened. Closed.

"You know," Rachel said. "If the house catches on fire, we're so screwed. There are bars on the window."

"Why's it too dangerous to sleep with me?"

"What exactly do you understand?"

He held her eyes for a long moment. She was sitting on the floor, one hand on her forehead, looking up at her. Her eyes and nose were red, face sort of blotchy.

She was beautiful.

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. Went to the bed and dropped down. "I get it. I was being chased by a reaper, which means I was dead. Should be dead. Now I'm alive. And all those problems I had are gone."

"It's a miracle."

He gave her a look.

"Okay, so not a miracle." She pushed herself to her feet and walked to the bed. "You don't here me complaining, do you?" Now in front of him, Rachel softly traced his face. "I, personally, thank any god there might be that you came back. I don't care if your father made a deal or if you just got better on your own. I'm just glad your here."

Dean closed his eyes. Took her by the wrists again, loosely this time. "I don't know if I am," he said hoarsely.

"Dean."

"I miss my dad. He shouldn't have done it."

"Maybe not. But wanted... he loved you too much to see you go."

Dean snorted. Shook his head. "It has nothing to do with me."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to talk about it." He let her go. "I'm dirty, Rachel. I get it. Makes perfect sense. You don't want to touch me, don't want to be with me, because you know the demon was inside me. The demon did something to me. And now I'm tainted."

Rachel inhaled sharply. Jaw trembled. "That... that really how you feel?" she asked, voice hoarse. "Dirty?"

He closed his eyes. Couldn't look at her anymore. Didn't want to.

He nodded.

"Oh, Dean," she breathed.

He heard her step away. A zipper.

Then the bed dipped. Rachel took his hand and pressed something into it.

Dean opened his eyes and looked down.

Her ring.

"Rach..."

"Dean."

He sighed. Took her left hand. Looked right into her eyes. Slipped her ring back on. "It's just a ring," he said.

She shook her head. "No," she said. She climbed onto his lap. Pulled the band off her braid and undid it. Shook our her hair. Slipped out of her shirt. Then, reached behind her back and unhooked her bra. "No, Dean. It's not just a ring." She put her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Her mouth was warm. Wet. Tongue probing. Deep. Hands caressed the side of his face. "It's everything."

Rachel took hold of Dean's shirt. Tugged it over his head.

He wanted to resist, he really did. All the reasons this hadn't happened before were still swarming in his head. And yet, his shirt was gone. And Rachel was tugging him onto the bed. Wiggling out of her jeans as she stretched on her back.

But he was only human. And her fingers were unbuckling his belt. Unzipping his fly. Tugging his jeans down.

And when he pulled down her panties, she didn't say no. She pulled him back down and was kissing him. Her hands were everywhere and his simply couldn't think. Couldn't think of the taint or his father or the enormity of the burden that had been laid on him. Couldn't think of all the millions of reasons they shouldn't do this, starting with his own insecurities and ending with the fact he should be dead. Couldn't be rational. Couldn't be in control.

Because Rachel was writhing underneath him. And her long, lean legs were wrapped around his waist. And she was drawing him inside her, and they were moving as one and, for one moment everything was just....

Right.



(Notes: Don't worry, they were safe. Condoms were used, because Rachel wouldn't not.)