Shit, shit, shit. He hated hospitals. Hated them with a fucking passion. Nothing good ever happened to his family in a hospital, and no one was allowed to point out that he and Sam had been born in one. That didn't count. Because, since then, except for being told he was married to Rachel, not one good thing had ever happened inside a hospital.
And here he was again, running up the front walkway to a hospital emergency room, Nathan nipping at his heels, because one of his family was inside the building. Rachel was inside the building because she'd fainted. Why? Dean had no idea; Sam hadn't bothered to tell him that much. Just called, said, "Rachel fainted at the store. We're going to the emergency room. Meet us there," and then fucking hung up.
The bastard had hung up. Hadn't given Dean time to ask any questions or given him any clue what, exactly, had happened. Rachel wasn't a fainter. Even after fainting that first time she'd sewed them up, she'd never done it again. Screamed, yeah. Got queasy, sure. But she didn't just faint for no reason.
So. There was a reason. A really, really bad reason.
The emergency room was the usual mess of a few injured people and a whole lot of sick people. Not one of them was his wife or his brother. Although, his brother was going to be ending up here if Dean didn't find him soon.
"Rachel Winchester," Dean said on reaching the counter. "I'm her husband. Where is she?"
The nurse clicked on the computer. "She was triaged out of emergency and into our clinic. Take a right at the end of the hall."
He nodded and went.
Nathan caught up to him. "Clinic is good," he said. "Clinic means it's not life threatening."
"Your boyfriend is a douche," was all Dean said.
"Technically, he's not my boyfriend. He…" Nathan's voice died at the look Dean shot him. He raised his hands and ducked his head. "Right, not the time."
Kid was smart. Sometimes. At least he had a sense of self-preservation, because if Dean didn't see Rachel now, someone was gonna die. And Nathan was the closest to him.
The clinic loomed ahead. Dean picked up speed, weaving through the few people wandering the hall. Pushed the door open with more force than strictly necessary. His eyes zeroed in on his brother, who was standing on the other side of the room in front of a hall. When he saw Dean, a look of relief flashed over his face, followed by a vague look of panic.
"What. Happened?" He grabbed Sam by his jacket and pushed him against the wall.
"Dean!" Nathan snapped, yanking at his sleeve.
Dean shoved him away, keeping his attention focused on his brother. "Sam, where's Rachel? What the hell happened?" He was aware he was shouting, probably drawing attention, but he didn't care.
"Calm down," Sam said in that damn soothing tone of his.
Dean hated that tone. He wanted to take that tone, shove it down Sam's throat, then kick him in the stomach. Then punch him. Then thrust his hand down Sam's throat, pull it out again, and stomp on it. "I swear to God, Sam…"
"Rachel's okay. She's waiting for the doctor right now. Room three. It's just…"
He let Sam go and raced down the hall. Didn't need to hear the rest of what he was going to say. Sam had had the chance to tell him what was going on, and he'd chosen to dick around instead. Like, what, if he'd just told Dean over the phone, he wouldn't have come? Instead of just telling him what was wrong, Sam had drawn out Dean's worry that much longer and now Dean just… didn't want to talk to him. Not right now. Right now, all he wanted was to see Rachel.
Room three. He pushed the door open, "Rachel?"
She was sitting on an exam table, the head raised so she was sitting up, legs in front of her, covered by a paper blanket. It was gynecological table, with stirrups and stuff, but Dean ignored that for now, concentrating, instead, on his wife.
She looked pale. There were shadows under her eyes, and her eyes were red and swollen, which meant she'd been crying. Which meant something was wrong.
"What's wrong?" he asked, crossing to her.
She smiled wearily at him. Shifted, the paper gown she was wearing rustling. "Hey." She grabbed his hand. "I'm okay. I promise. Sam overreacted."
"He said you fainted."
"Well, yeah. I did. But…" She closed her eyes, face scrunching like it did when she was trying not to cry. "But apparently… apparently it's not all that uncommon to, you know. Get dizzy and maybe faint when you're." Her voice got thick. Heavy. Was barely audible when she whispered, "Pregnant."
He stared her, not understanding. Not getting it, because, dammit, he didn't want to get it. Didn't want to understand because things had changed enough this year, and he wasn't ready for anything else. And, worse, she was looking at him through those big, sad eyes and not even the tiniest bit happy which meant…
Which meant…
"What?" he finally managed to say, voice scraping out of his throat hoarsely.
She let out a shuddery breath. "I'm pregnant, Dean." She lifted a calendar from her lap and added, "I'm just trying to figure out how pregnant."
He took a few stumbling steps toward her, like he was being pulled. "But… how? We are insanely safe. I mean, condoms and a diaphragm and spermicide … and…" He trailed off, realization dawning.
"Yeah," Rachel said. "And can you remember the last time we used any of it?"
He clenched his jaw. Shook his head.
"I know I haven't been taking the pill. It's like any thought of birth control was wiped out of my head after…" She swallowed. "You know."
He went to the table and took her hand. "So, what? Are you… are you saying the demon wanted you to get pregnant?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't know. I don't know. What would be the point, unless this baby is a demon and that's the point. I mean, do you remember why we were so paranoid about me getting pregnant?"
"We were just being safe. I mean, a kid… we're not exactly ready."
"No, I know." She wiped a tear away. "But there's being safe, and then there's using five different kinds of birth control. I mean, I really didn't want to get pregnant."
Dean sighed. "I don't know. I mean, it was always your gig, right? The… I was fine with condoms and the pill. They're pretty effective, right? You're the one who wanted all the other stuff. I went along with it."
"I know. I just can't remember why." She threaded her hands through her hair and squeezed her scalp. "It's like I'm missing something. Like… like I know the reason I didn't want to get pregnant, and the idea still sends this… this thrill of panic through me. But it's gone."
"What?" He frowned, following her train of thought. "You think the demon told you about wanting to get you pregnant? And then made you forget?"
"Maybe."
"Okay, when? When he tell you? At the cabin?"
She shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't know, I was afraid before it took me. He must have told me before."
"When?"
Rachel tore at her hair again, face twisted in something that looked like agony. "I don't know. I don't know! But it's not like I don't know, it's like it's been taken. Like my journals, like my computer." She looked up at Dean, tears rolling down her face. "I must have met him at some point, and he made me forget."
"Maybe at the hospital. When Dad made the deal, maybe you were with Dad." There was a sort of flicker in Dean's mind, like he was on the verge of remembering something, but it was snatched away before he could grasp it.
The look on Rachel's face made it seem like she was having the same problem. "I… No, I… I was with Sam."
"Rach, this thing made you forget your entire life. Maybe it can change a few hours of memory."
Her head fell back, covering her face with both hands. "Why?"
The anguished cry cut through Dean, shaking him. He didn't have an answer and he didn't have anything he could go out and kill. This was like Mom all over again, only instead of Rachel being dead, she kept getting tortured. Every time they got their lives together, this bastard came back and tore it apart and there was nothing they could do.
Dean climbed awkwardly onto the exam table and pulled Rachel to him. Didn't say anything as he stroked her hair, resting his mouth on the top of her head. Offered comfort the best way he knew how.
When her sobs had faded away to sniffles, he tilted her head back and kissed her softly. "You know, I could be the father. I mean, we could be having a baby together."
Her smile was wobbly. It didn't reach her eyes. "What are the odds of that?"
"Hey. You're the optimist in this relationship. Don't go changing the rules now." He wiped a tear away. "I'm sorry."
Rachel closed her eyes. Blew out a long, slow breath. When she opened her eyes again, she looked calm. "It's not your fault. And, Dean, this doesn't change anything. About how I feel about you. Us. This isn't your fault." She took his hand and ran her fingers over his wedding ring. "And this is still the life I want. The life I chose. And we'll deal with this. Together." A look of uncertainty crosses her face. "Right?"
"Of course." He kissed her and rested their foreheads together. He could feel her trembling, about to start crying again, and knew that now wasn't the time to ask the millions of questions he had. Like, what were they going to do? Should they keep it or try to get rid of it? What was going to happen to their life, to hunting? Where were they going to live and keep the baby, and, if the demon had gotten her pregnant, would he let them keep it?
Was Rachel going get through this? She was strong, he knew this, but the minute you added a kid into things… and it was inside her. She was going to get attached. Hell, they both were, because Dean already wanted to put his hands on her stomach and press his ear against it, see if he could hear anything. Cover her stomach with kisses and maybe whisper something against her skin. Even if the demon had done it, it was still part of Rachel in there, and it was still a baby. Part human, and the demon had possessed someone.
"Hey," he said, thought occurring. "What if it wasn't the demon? I mean, there was that guy, right? The one who got you out of the cave and took you to the cabin. What if he's the father?"
Rachel pulled away from him and leaned back against the table. "Again, what are the odds?"
"Maybe better than me being the father. He was there before the demon."
Her cheeks flushed. "So maybe he hit the target first?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "It's just a theory. I mean, the thing did possess a guy. He obviously needed something from him. Chose him for some reason."
Her brow furrowed.
"What?"
"Nothing." She shook her head. "No, it's… like I'm supposed to remember something. Like the answer is right there, and I'm missing it."
"Yeah. I felt that earlier." He lifted her hand and kissed it.
Someone knocked on the door and then entered. A woman walked in. She was short, with short grey hair, glasses, and a face that looked like every TV grandmother Dean seen. She made him want to trust her, and he didn't trust anyone, even little old grandmothers.
"Hello, Mrs. Winchester," she said, looking up from the file she was holding and smiling. "I'm Doctor Stevens."
Rachel sniffed. Reached for a tissue from the box next to the exam table and wiped her nose. "Hi. This is my husband, Dean."
Dr. Stevens smiled at him and held out a hand to shake. "Nice to meet you. So." She pulled a chair over and sat. "I understand that this is a delicate and rather traumatic situation for you."
Rachel's eyes filled. "Yeah. I was, uh…" She took a shuddery breath. "I was kidnapped and, um, raped. I don't remember anything about that time." She licked her lips. "I think this was when my last period was." She handed the calendar to Dr. Stevens, indicating the date.
"Okay." She looked at it, wrote something down, then looked back up. "So, that'd put you at about thirteen weeks. Is that around the time you were abducted?"
The tears spilled over. "Yes."
"That doesn't necessarily mean anything, Mrs. Winchester," Dr. Stevens said. She got up and moved closer to Rachel, putting her hand on her arm. "Just keep taking deep breaths and try to keep calm." She pulled a tissue from the box and handed it to Rachel. "You and your husband are both young. I assume you've been having sex."
"We did the night before she left for her trip," Dean said. "And about a week after we found her."
Dr. Stevens shot him a look, eyebrow upraised, but she only said, "So, its within the window. There's a possibility that you were pregnant before you were abducted."
"Not much of one," Rachel said, voice hoarse and broken. "We're very safe."
"But, still. The possibility is still there." She picked her file. "Now, thirteen weeks is later than we normally do the first exam, but there is not going get anxious about. Now, I'm going to give you a pelvic exam, which is routine for the first prenatal exam. We'll do a normal physical exam as well, just to access your overall health. We'll take some blood to run some routine screenings."
"You keep saying the word routine," Dean pointed out. "It's making me nervous."
Dr. Stevens smiled at him. "I'm just trying to assure you that there's nothing to worry about. I know this situation is stressful enough, and I don't want you to think that anything I'm going to do today is out of the ordinary."
That made sense, but it didn't make Dean feel any better. "She's been sleeping a lot. Like, a lot a lot. She fell asleep on computer the other day. Is that normal."
"I always do that."
"Not at three in the afternoon."
"Yes, Mr. Winchester, that's perfectly normal. Have you had any other symptoms," she asked Rachel. "Nausea, frequent urination, sore breasts?"
Rachel blushed. "I don't know. I guess my breasts have been sore. My bras aren't fitting right lately."
Dr. Stevens wrote that down, nodding. "But that's it?"
"Pretty much. It wasn't until today that I realized I haven't had a period in a few months. And then I fainted."
"Have you felt dizzy or faint at any other time?"
Rachel shook her head. "It was more the shock."
She nodded and made another note. Then she closed the folder and looked at Rachel. "All right. Here's where we sort of deviate from routine. At thirteen weeks, we could should be able to hear the heartbeat. Also, I'd like to do an ultrasound to get a more accurate assessment of how far along you are."
"Neither of those things are dangerous, are they?" Dean asked, squeezing Rachel's hand.
"No, not dangerous. It's just that it can be very difficult to see and hear the fetus in this kind of situation. Especially if you think you might want to terminate the pregnancy."
Dean winced. Nodded and turned to look at Rachel.
Who laughed. Hysterically. Laughed, crying at the same time.
Dean leaned over her. Traced her forehead, pushing hair back. "Rachel. Rach, what's wrong?" Beyond the obvious, of course.
"I'll be back in a moment," Dr. Stevens said.
He didn't say anything. Just pulled Rachel into his arms and rocked her. Made soothing, shushing noises, not sure what else to do. Pressed kisses against her forehead and cheeks and mouth. Rubbed her back and breathed with her until she began to calm, sobs fading into sniffles, her body heavy and limp against his own.
"What's wrong, Rach?" He trailed his fingers through her hair.
"Like the demon is going to let me get an abortion," she whispered. "He won't even let me remember the conception. If I try, he'll do something to me."
He sighed. Tightened his arms around her. He was so fucking sick of living this constant fear. It choked them, made them afraid to do anything. It wasn't fair.
"Forget about that," he said. He pulled back and tilted her head to meet his eyes. "Just… if it were just you and me. And you got pregnant. What would you want to do?"
"It's a moot point."
"But if it wasn't moot," he insisted. He wiped a tear away. "Look, I know we're not exactly ready for kids. And our lives are… different. A baby doesn't exactly fit in."
She shook her head. "No. I wouldn't want to give up our lives for something, you know. Normal."
"I know." He leaned forward. Kissed her. Pressed his lips against his forehead. "But on the other hand, we're having a baby. We're a family. And I want…" To his surprise, his throat got tight. He pushed through it. "I want us to be a family, Rachel."
"You would? Do?" She blinked, a few tears sliding out.
"Yeah. I mean, it's not something we planned, but it's here, right? So."
"But what if…"
"Rachel." He gave in to the burning desire. Reached down and rested his hand against her abdomen. "No matter who fathered it, that baby is half you. And that makes me love it. Want it." He shrugged. "If you do."
Her eyes well up again. "I… I don't know. I still feel like a kid. I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm afraid I'll do something stupid."
"Rach. You're not stupid. And I'm pretty sure every parent feels like that." His stomach gave a funny little flip at the thought of being a parent. It was more scary than anything he'd faced, but he wanted it.
"You'll be there, right?"
"You think I'd leave you alone?" He lifted her hand. Kissed her ring. "I got you into this."
She laughed. "You did not."
"No, you're right. Sam did. It's all Sam's fault. He drew up the marriage license. It's his fault."
Her laughter was rich and full. Beautiful. "I love you," she said, draping her arms over his neck.
"Yeah," he said, smiling at her. "Me too."
"Sam what is going on?" Nathan asked once Dean had disappeared down the hall. "You're supposed to be the sensitive one. The one who shares things. Share what's happening with my sister!"
Sam winced. Nathan was loud, and his voice reached a pitch that should only be audible to dogs.
He grabbed Nathan and dragged him out of the clinic and into the hall. There were still too many people here for Sam's taste; after everything that'd happened that day, he felt on the verge of breaking down. Of needing something-someone to cling to. To work his frustration out on. And he didn't want witnesses.
Holding Nathan tightly by the wrist, Sam pushed him into the stairwell. Shoved him against the wall.
Nathan's eyes were wide, but he didn't say anything. Just looked at Sam through dark, serious eyes, hair falling over them. He licked his bottom lip, drawing Sam's gaze.
Sam swallowed. Fought the shudder of arousal that went through him. Closed his eyes. "Rachel's pregnant."
Silence. Nathan's brow furrowed. "Pregnant?" he repeated. "Like, she and Dean are going to have a baby."
"Maybe."
"What do you mean, maybe? Either they are or… Oh, shit," he said, abruptly getting it. He closed his eyes and pulled Sam to him, resting his head against Sam's chest. "Fuck."
"Yeah." Sam twined his fingers in Nathan's hair. Rested his head on Nathan's, breathing him in.
He'd meant what he said to Rachel before, technically Nathan wasn't his boyfriend. He wasn't sure what Nathan was, to be honest. In the three months since Nathan had joined them, the two of them had spent a lot of time making out and dry humping, but that was it. Sam had been reluctant to take it any further, unwilling to commit to something he wasn't sure of, and Nathan seemed happy to follow Sam's lead. It was disturbingly casual to someone who'd never done casual in his life. Different from the way Dean had done casual, with a different woman every night, but still… remarkably free of anything resembling a relationship. Commitment.
It fit perfectly. Despite lingering doubts and thoughts that maybe he needed to do something, take it somewhere, declare something, or make this something… what he and Nathan had was just right.
"How's she doing?"
"Um, she's pretty shaken up," Sam said. He let a hand trail down Nathan's neck. Traced patterns against his skin. "We were at the store and it just… hit her. And she fainted from the shock. Didn't want to come here, but if she's right, she's something like three months pregnant, right? She needs to see a doctor."
Nathan sniffed. Rubbed his forehead on Sam's chest. "Have she and Dean had sex since she came back?"
His stomach clenched; he really didn't like thinking about the two of them having sex. Bad enough he'd been the one to finally force the issue between them, he didn't need to become even more involved with his brother's sex life. "You'd probably know better than me," he said. Nathan was disturbingly open about sex.
He pulled his head away. Rested it against the wall. "I think so. Remember when they ditched us at the Roadhouse?"
"That soon?"
"Rachel's always been one to jump back on the horse. Or the pogo stick."
"Nathan!" Sam pushed himself away, but Nathan pulled him back. Pulled him down and kissed him.
Sam fell into the kiss. Melted against Nathan, wrapping his arms around the other man. Kissed him hard, tilting Nathan's head back. Forcing his mouth open, plunging his tongue into Nathan's willing mouth.
This was new, too. Using physical intimacy to distract himself. It was Dean's normal shtick, but with Nathan right here…
Nathan ran his hand down Sam's spine. Tucked it underneath his waistband. Broke the kiss and rested their foreheads together. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Everything." Sam grabbed Nathan by the waist. Hoisted him up against the wall.
He helped Sam move him, wrapping his legs around Sam's waist and shimming up the wall. "You want to fool around in the stairwell of a hospital," he said throatily. "You're not usually like this, Mr. Private." He leaned forward and nipped at Sam's jaw. "Something is wrong."
"Since when do you care why I start something?" Sam asked before mouthing Nathan's ear.
Nathan arched his back, breath catching. "I'm not complaining." His voice was strained. "I'm just concerned. That's all."
Sam caught Nathan's earlobe in his mouth. Sucked on it delicately, teasing it with his tongue. When he released it, he rested his head against Nathan's. Forced himself to breathe. To relax.
"Sam?" Nathan stroked Sam's hair.
"This demon is involved with my family because of me. I don't know why, but before me, they were fine. And then I come along and Mom dies. Then Jess and now it's gone after Rachel and…"
"If you say it's all my fault, I'll kick you," Nathan said, cutting him off.
"But…"
"You were six months old." He pulled Sam's head back and met his gaze. "Six months. It was not your fault. You didn't call it to your crib. You didn't make a deal with it. You didn't ask for it."
"Then why was it there?"
Nathan's face softened. He looked almost… sympathetic. Like he had bad news that he didn't want to give, but didn't quite see any other way.
Sam's stomach clenched. "What?"
Slowly, Nathan unwrapped his legs. Slid down so he was standing and gently pushed Sam away. "Sam. Why do demons normally get involved in people's lives?"
He shook his head.
"Sam."
He closed his eyes, not wanting to think. Not wanting to accept what Nathan was trying to say because it was impossible. There was no way…
"No."
"Sam…"
"No!" Louder. Lust was gone, desire was gone, replaced with pure, white-hot anger.
Sam grabbed Nathan by the shirt and slammed him against the wall. "No."
Nathan didn't even flinch. "You wouldn't be this angry if you didn't know I was right. It wasn't your dad, that much is pretty obvious. But someone in your family made a deal with this thing."
"No. No one would do that."
"Sam…"
"We didn't know about demons before Mom died, Nathan. We're not like your family, so neck deep in this world that it's passed down through the generations."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "How do you know? Did you ever talk to any of your grandparents about it? Read anything they left?"
"I… I never knew my grandparents."
His other eyebrow went up and his lips pursed. Carefully, Nathan reached up and pulled Sam's hands off him. Walked around him and sat on the stairs. "Never knew your grandparents, so you don't know if what I'm saying is wrong necessarily. One set of them might have been hunters. Or, I don't know. Maybe it wasn't a deal. Maybe it was just… somehow, they ran across this thing. Messed up something for it, and it took revenge by killing your mom and doing something to you."
"Doing something to me?"
Nathan looked up. Shrugged. "I told you. You give off the same kind of energy as that thing. You're somehow connected to it. It did something to you. Just don't know what." He stood up. Went to Sam and took his hand. "But it's not your fault."
He closed his eyes. Swallowed hard. "It feels like it." He's embarrassed at how strained his voice sounds.
"But it's not. And no one is blaming you."
"Maybe they should start."
"You haven't done anything, Sam. You've never even seen this thing. You are not to blame."
He clenched his jaw.
"Look at me, Sam." When Sam didn't open his eyes, Nathan squeezed his arm. "Look at me."
He forced his eyes open.
Nathan smile. "It's not your fault. And it won't do any of us any good if you keep blaming yourself. Dean's gonna have enough on his plate right now without having to worry about his baby brother."
"His demon baby brother."
"You're not a demon. You're powerful. You've got a demon who wants you for something. But that doesn't make you a demon." Nathan stepped into Sam, pressing their bodies together. "I don't fool around with demons, Sam."
"No?" He gave Nathan a half smile. "And here you told me you were easy."
"Oh, I'm easy," Nathan assured him. "I just have standards." He slid his hands around Sam's waist. Rose onto his toes and bussed a kiss to Sam's mouth.
Sam caught Nathan before he could slip back down. Deepened the kiss, taking comfort in it. Allowed himself to be grounded, centered by Nathan's reassuring words and reassuring bodies.
"It'll be okay," Nathan whispered, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and pulling him down. They kissed again.
And Sam almost believed him.